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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23299279">Gaps in His Files</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdrianaintheSnow/pseuds/AdrianaintheSnow'>AdrianaintheSnow</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Labeled [16]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Sanders Sides (Web Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Emotional Baggage, Happy Ending, M/M, Memory Loss, Past Child Abuse, Self-Esteem Issues, Virgil only appears in the epilogue, emotional suppression, medical procedures mentioned, self deprecation, superhero au, very brief unhealthy views of sex</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 12:14:34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>21,901</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23299279</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdrianaintheSnow/pseuds/AdrianaintheSnow</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Logan Berry has learned many things the last 10 years: a lot of math and physics, a bit of humility, and how to be a hero being just a few. Through his education, his experience teaching, and his exploits as the superhero Bluebird, he’s changed in a lot of small and large ways. He has recorded these changes in well-organized documents and files. He’s even had to create two new file designations: a red one for files about his moonlighting at Bluebird, and a light blue one dedicated to his boyfriend, Patton.</p>
<p>When Bluebird is targeted by a memory device and all of those 10 years of progress suddenly disappear, Patton Sanders and Logan’s extensive files are left as his only resource to get those memories back. But what is Patton supposed to do when there are clear gaps in his files? And what does he do when he is one of them?</p>
<p>This is a prequel set 25 years before Sometimes Labels Fail, but it is not necessary to read that or anything else in the series to understand this.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Logic | Logan Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Labeled [16]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1616662</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>724</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>494</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Logan woke slightly colder than he should have been with a presence in his bed that had not been there when he’d fallen asleep. He squinted at said presence in the dim light of his bedroom. “You are a blanket thief,” he informed the sleeping form as he carefully brushed a bit of hair out of his face. He stirred a bit, pressing back against the touch with a soft sound. Logan glanced over at his bedside table and quickly reached over to turn off the alarm that was set to go off in 4 minutes. Then, he turned his attention back to the bed invader.</p>
<p>“Patton,” he called softly, leaning forward to brush a soft kiss across his brow. He puffed out a breath in response and shuffled closer, still mostly asleep. Logan smiled. He appreciated Patton in any state, but sleepy Patton held a special place in his heart. He started peppering kisses down his cheek to his jaw causing his nose to twitch as he started to stir. “Good morning dear.”</p>
<p>“Uhm nuh humba na ha.”</p>
<p>“Ah yes,” Logan replied seriously, “a compelling argument.”</p>
<p>He was still not quite in the waking world, but he was conscious enough to recognize the mocking. He whined and slapped Logan’s shoulder softly. Logan took that as a cue to roll on top of him and lean forward to kiss his neck.</p>
<p>“No,” he whined and wiggled. “Annoying.”</p>
<p>“Annoying huh?” Logan asked into his neck. “Big words for someone guilty of breaking and entering.”</p>
<p>“No breaking,” Patton complained, “I have a key!”</p>
<p>Logan hummed in response. “When did you get here?”</p>
<p>“About 4am,” he mumbled.</p>
<p>“Hmm,” Logan said and gave him a slow kiss on the lips. “I’ll close the curtains when I get up.”</p>
<p>Patton’s legs wrapped around his waist and he yawned. “Thanks.”</p>
<p>“I am going to have to get up pretty soon dear,” Logan pointed out.</p>
<p>“No,” Patton whined, “snuggles.”</p>
<p>“I think my students may not be happy if I do that,” he said.</p>
<p>Patton snorted. “They would too.”</p>
<p>“Well, at least my supervising professor wouldn’t be happy.”</p>
<p>Patton just grumbled and snaked his arms around Logan’s neck before pulling him down for another long kiss.</p>
<p>It took much effort for Logan to pull himself back. “This is entirely unfair,” he said, fingers tracing patterns over his cheeks. “You are far too adorable to resist.”</p>
<p>Patton giggled which was even more unfair and Logan surged forward for another kiss, though it was a quicker peck this time.</p>
<p>“And yet you resist me,” Patton said when he drew back again, a finger tracing his brow.</p>
<p>“Duty calls,” he responded.</p>
<p>“Yeah,” he replied softly.</p>
<p>“I love you,” Logan said. The hand on Logan’s shoulder clenched into the fabric of his shirt.</p>
<p>“I love you too,” he said, a bit of a shake to his voice before lunging forward to kiss him thoroughly once again. Logan was breathless by the time they finally drew apart.</p>
<p>“I do have to go now,” he said regretfully.</p>
<p>“Yeah, I know,” he said, and released his grip on Logan’s shoulder.</p>
<p>Logan regretfully pulled himself from the warmth that was Patton and stood. He went to his window and pulled the curtain to darken the room before going to his closet. The suit he’d picked up from the store yesterday was front and center, and he touched the outside of the white plastic covering it with a soft smile. Then he grabbed his outfit for the day. When he turned back around, Patton had already closed his eyes and curled himself around an extra pillow. Logan paused and leaned forward to kiss him on the cheek before going to change and get ready in the bathroom.</p>
<p>Once he was dressed, he entered his kitchen and his eyes immediately found the note on his countertop. <em>Don’t forget to eat breakfast! :) &lt;3 </em>was scribbled in Patton’s messy scrawl on one of Logan’s sticky notes. Logan puffed out a laugh and went over to start the coffee machine. He reached for his coffee cup and caught sight of another sticky note inside it. <em>Don’t ignore me. &gt;:( </em>it read. Logan shook his head and went about organizing his school supplies in his bag. He pulled out his planner to check his schedule for the day and another note fell out. <em>Logan…</em></p>
<p>“Fine, fine,” Logan said aloud and walked over to his cabinet to grab the loaf of bread there. A note was taped to the top. <em>Thankyou! &lt;3&lt;3. </em>“Absolutely incorrigible,” he said fondly. He gathered up that note as well as the other three while he waited for the bread to toast and stuck them in his pocket. He spread peanut butter on his toast and poured himself a cup of coffee before taking his breakfast and his planner into the extra bedroom he’d converted into an office.</p>
<p>There was a pen sitting on his desk out of place and Logan bit his tongue in agitation, picking it up and sitting down on his chair. He took a bite of his toast and opened his planner to his to do list for the week. The calendar next to it had his class schedule in black pen, his personal appointments in green, and his study schedule in dark blue ink. His Saturday had been blocked off from 3pm to 11pm with a lighter blue inked pen. He went to check off one of the tasks he’d finished last night, and nothing happened.</p>
<p>“I’m going to kill him,” he told the empty room before rolling his chair over to the trashcan to throw out the empty pen. It clinked against the two already in the trashcan. He swore Patton had the latent superpower to summon inkless pens and the more time he spent at Logan’s apartment, the more accumulated despite Logan’s best efforts. It was a source of endless torment for Logan but still a small price to pay for his boyfriend’s presence.</p>
<p>Once he’d grabbed a functioning pen from its place in his pen holder and finished editing his weekly task list (Though there were a few important exclusions in this week’s list in fear of prying eyes. He would have to remember to call the photographers to confirm between his first and second class without a note to remind himself.), he reached into his pocket for this morning’s notes. He glanced up at a spot on the far wall that was too high for him and, more importantly, Patton to reach without buying a ladder. Well, at least, it would be too high for Logan except for one important fact. He flicked his finger and a small hidden door slid up. The contents of the secret compartment shot into his hand with barely a mental nudge.</p>
<p>He opened his desk and found the stack of different colored paper he kept there. He flipped past the dark blue and red to get to the pieces of light blue paper in the exact shade of the cover of the binder he held in his hand. He selected one of those pages and used the hole puncher on his desk to prepare it to go into the binder before he carefully arranged the notes from Patton on it in chronological order. Then, he pinned each of them down with pieces of tap and wrote himself quick notes next to each to remind himself of where he’d found them. Once finished, he turned to the binder. He touched the cover with a large amount of fondness and a bit of mortification because honestly, he couldn’t believe he was still doing this.</p>
<p>He’d started taking notes on Patton the moment they’d met in a coffee shop over three years ago. Later he would learn that Patton had just gotten off of a long shift at the hospital and was utterly exhausted, but all Logan had known at the time was that a strange man bumped into him and would have spilled an entire cup of hot coffee on him if it hadn’t been for Logan’s own quick reflexes. Unfortunately, those quick reflexes had not been of the physical variety; he had accidentally used his powers to stop the cup and its contents in midair. He’d turned wide eyes to the stranger, dreading a reaction. There weren’t exactly many supers with telekinesis who lived in the state after all, but he’d just said “good catch” as though he hadn’t noticed Logan’s attempts to ruin his own secret identity. Logan hadn’t known whether or not to believe him when he acted as though he’d seen nothing, worried about who this man could be and what he could be planning. (Patton would later tell him that Logan probably could have floated into the coffee shop upside down and kicked Patton in his face, and he wouldn’t have noticed that day.) So, he’d written up an incident report for his red files with all the details he could remember and then resolved to keep an eye on the man in case he was lying and plotting to take action against Logan (he hadn’t been). And well, he had certainly ended up keeping an eye on Patton.</p>
<p>Later the binder had become a cumulation of frankly embarrassing records of his crush along with a failed list of steps to get a date (failed because while executing the third step, Patton had asked him out.) Then, once they’d started dating, it had been a sort of crutch, filled with hypothesizes and observations about Patton as though he were some sort of science experiment. Logan had never had any type of romantic relationship before (barring the two embarrassing incidents where his parents attempted to set him up with dates for school dances). He’d vowed when he first put on a mask that he would never date anyone who did not already know his superhero identity. The nice Catch-22 was that Logan had never told anyone that he was Bluebird. Then Patton barreled his way into his life with no regard for Logan’s emotional walls. Logan had been going in blind and the binder had been his way of dealing with the confusing, though wonderful, feelings.</p>
<p>He was better now, more settled, and more comfortable with the peculiarities of sharing so much of your life with another person. Now he only really referred to the binder for specific, important events. Other than that, it was used more like a scrapbook anymore. Logan had trouble throwing away things Patton gave him.</p>
<p>He flipped to the correct section of the binder and placed the page with this morning’s notes in it. His finger traced the smiley face and heart on the first one. Then, he flipped to the back of the binder briefly, tapped the baggy hanging there with his finger, just to double check, before closing the binder and replacing it back in the hidden compartment with his powers.</p>
<p>He drank the rest of his coffee and packed his bag before leaving to get to his 8:30 am class on time. It was Tuesday now. One more normal day today and three more after that.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>We’re starting the Patton is suffering week early because I just got irritating news and I was planning on posting two chapters this coming week anyway because chapter 3 is really short. Sorry Patton, time to suffer with me.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Patton woke to an empty bed. He’d known, of course, that it would be empty. It was, after all, he glanced at the clock on the nightstand, a little past 1pm. Logan left hours ago to teach his 8:30am class and he’d already be teaching his 1pm class by now.</p>
<p>Patton stared at the roof for a few minutes before pulling himself out of Logan’s bed and shuffling into the kitchen. He poured himself a cup of cold coffee and stuck it in the microwave to warm it up. It didn’t taste particularly great, and Patton didn’t bother with his usual sugar, too preoccupied with simply getting the caffeine into his system. It had been a… long, for a lack of a better term, night at the hospital, and Patton felt more than just physically tired. He tried to shove the image of a six-year-old girl from his head; he failed. He bit his lip in frustration. She was stable now anyway. He shouldn’t… he shouldn’t be like this about it.</p>
<p>He just couldn’t forget her little body on the operating table, broken from having fallen out of her bedroom window the night before. Emotions that Patton had suppressed all night in order to do his job correctly were now lapping at his heels.</p>
<p>He wanted Logan.</p>
<p>Logan was busy.</p>
<p>He’d be at “The Hideout” to drink coffee and work on grading his students’ quizzes once he was done teaching at 2pm.</p>
<p>He’d be too busy for Patton; he kept a strict schedule.</p>
<p>Though he never minded much when distracted while grading since it wasn’t something that needed absolute focus.</p>
<p>Patton still shouldn’t just impose his presence on Logan like that just because he was lonely and sad.</p>
<p>Maybe even if he didn’t want to talk, he’d still be willing to hold Patton’s hand over the table for a bit while he worked. Patton could pretend he was in any state to read a book, so he didn’t feel like he was being pressured to talk. It wasn’t like Patton didn’t like to go to the little coffee shop on his own. He’d been going there for years before he’d even met Logan. Logan knew that; that’s where they’d met. It wouldn’t seem like he was following his boyfriend around like a lost puppy.</p>
<p>Even though that was exactly what Patton wanted to do.</p>
<p>…</p>
<p>God, Patton was annoying.</p>
<p>He was also about to have a mental breakdown on his boyfriend’s kitchen floor if he wasn’t careful. He leaned against the countertop and took a deep breath, reining it in.</p>
<p>He chugged the rest of the coffee before quickly washing out the cup, drying it, and setting it back in its designated place. He would go to “The Hideout” now and get some more coffee. Maybe he’d also grab a sandwich, because he didn’t remember when he’d eaten last, but it was defiantly over 12 hours ago. If by the time he got there, ordered his food, and ate it, Logan had arrived, he could say hi to him. If it looked like Logan didn’t want him around, he could just claim he’d popped in for lunch and needed to leave to run an errand. Then Logan wouldn’t have to deal with him if he didn’t feel like it.</p>
<p>Even if Patton did have to leave, he’d at least get one of those nice and warm cheek kisses and maybe, if was lucky, a hug.</p>
<p>With that in mind, he carefully locked Logan’s apartment up just how he liked it and got his car from the parking spot in the apartment complex’s garage that Logan had rented for guests after Patton had started staying over more. He drove back to his own apartment to take a quick shower and change.</p>
<p>By the time he made it to “The Hideout” it was just a bit before two. Walking into the small café made Patton feel just a bit better. It was silly. It was just a café after all, but he’d been coming here for years. The walls were imbued with ghosts of memories: soft, happy memories that warmed Patton every time he stepped foot in here. It was a place of smiling, speaking warm quiet words, and falling in love. He’d met Logan here.</p>
<p>God, he really wanted Logan.</p>
<p>He gave his order to Dave with a practiced smile that strained at the edges and sat to wait.</p>
<p>When it was 13 minutes past 2pm, Patton started to get a little worried, because Logan was nothing if not punctual even to things that weren’t scheduled, and he always got here by 5 past 2 on Tuesdays. Then, the city sirens went off.</p>
<p>Dave immediately turned on the television.</p>
<p>Oh.</p>
<p>That would explain why Logan was late.</p>
<p>Patton was sure to keep his face neutrally concerned like any other customer in the coffee shop while he watched the events unfolding on the television screen. Lightwave and Bluebird were fighting downtown.</p>
<p>Logan was doing fine for the most part, but whatever weapon the villain had must not be something physical as it wasn’t being blocked by Logan’s powers. Patton watched as he dodged away from a blast from it. When that blast hit the concrete wall behind him, it didn’t cause any obvious physical damage. That should be reliving to Patton, but he had to wonder what it was supposed to be doing then. Logan, of course, noticed that the blast was stopped easily by the concrete and ripped up a piece of sidewalk to block the next attack.</p>
<p>Lightwave seemed frustrated when the beam was absorbed into the material and moved to aim the weapon instead at a police car nearby. Logan threw the piece of sidewalk to block the blast aimed at the police officers which left him vulnerable as the villain quickly turned the weapon back on him. Logan was moving before the weapon even discharged, clearly anticipating the move. If it had been a physical weapon, he would have gotten off with barely a graze on his arm.</p>
<p>It was not a physical weapon.</p>
<p>He dropped straight down.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>As promised, you get chapter 3 quickly because it’s really short.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Logan awoke aware that many things were wrong. First of all, he was clearly not in a bed and was not lying in any position he normally would have if he were. In addition to that, everything ached, especially his head. For a moment, he entertained the thought that perhaps he was extremely ill with the stomach flu and had passed out on his bathroom floor after vomiting or something to the like.</p>
<p>Then he became aware of the screaming. Had he been in an explosion or something? He opened his eyes, and everything was blurred and not the usual blurry that just meant he was not wearing his glasses, but the type where it felt like the world was spinning. Perhaps he had a concussion. He blinked once, twice, and then the world came into sudden focus which was… weird. If he had a concussion, surely that would not have happened.</p>
<p>He struggled into a sitting position, body protesting the entire way and peered around himself. He was on pavement in the middle of a busy street in a city he didn’t recognize. While people were screaming, there didn’t seem to be any signs of an explosion except for a torn-up piece of concrete. He wondered what could have ripped that up.</p>
<p>His eyes flickered up to the main source of activity. There was a costumed figure standing some yards away which Logan immediately classified as bad. Whoever it was had a weapon though they seemed to not be using it. Instead, as Logan watched, they shot a beam of light from their hand and the trees in the park they were near began to burn forcing the people who had apparently been hiding behind them to run.</p>
<p>Logan found himself climbing to his feet on unsteady legs. He was wearing a costume himself, he realized mystified and a mask judging from the feel of fabric on his face. The costumed figure went to shoot more light, and Logan made a split-second decision. He threw up a hand, knocking the villain off balance and causing the weapon in their hand to crash into the ground and shatter. The villain whipped around.</p>
<p>“No!” they said when they saw him. “I hit you! I hit you!”</p>
<p>“You did,” Logan agreed even though he didn’t remember.</p>
<p>“But you!” the villain stuttered, “You shouldn’t even remember-” Logan didn’t bother listening to the rest. He reached forward and tossed the man like a rag doll into the nearest building. He slid down it. Logan imagined he was unconscious after that, but kept his powers pressing him against the wall with as much force as he could muster (which, he noticed, was much more than he was expecting) until a uniformed officer ran to apprehend the villain.</p>
<p>“Bluebird?” a different officer asked with a cautious voice as he approached Logan.</p>
<p>“I,” Logan said looking down at the blue fabric covering his hands. It was his favorite color. “I unfortunately have no idea who that is.” Then he ran.</p>
<p>The officer called after him as well as some of the citizens as he ran by them, but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t help but recall the last words the villain had said to him. “You shouldn’t even remember,” because Logan was pretty sure he didn’t.</p>

<p></p><div class="tags">
  <p> </p>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Does anyone see the Easter Egg in here? Probably not. It’s pretty vague…</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Patton did not like driving Logan’s “special car.” It didn’t matter what position he put the seat in, he still either couldn’t reach the pedals or he felt like he was too scrunched up; the radio was (somehow) only set up to receive the local news station as well as some weird station that only ran a program detailing crop growing strategies which Patton thought must be some sort of cover for a channel sending messages in code (at least he really hoped it was because otherwise its existence was an affront to humanity); and he’d accidentally zapped himself with electricity while trying to adjust the temperature twice in the past and he still didn’t know if that was a feature or faulty wiring and Logan had refused to give an argument that convinced him either way. Not to mention, the car didn’t legally exist. If Patton got pulled over in this thing, what was he supposed to tell the police? Sorry, my boyfriend doesn’t have insurance, I’m pretty sure he built this death trap himself out of scrap metal because I can’t even discern the make and model.</p><p>“The corn! THE CORN,” the radio spewed.</p><p>“Yes, the corn,” Patton spat back. “I know. I heard you the first time.” Unfortunately, today, listening to the corn channel was better than listening to the news. The local news station continued to discuss and theorize what had happened earlier that afternoon over and over until Patton couldn’t take it anymore.</p><p>A memory gun had hit Logan. It had been a theory at first considering the things Lightwave and Logan had said along with the fact that Logan hadn’t seemed to remember how to fly, and had been all but confirmed a couple of hours ago when news that the police had investigated the dropped weapon leaked. Which all meant Logan was out there floundering with no idea what was going on or who he was. Patton wondered how much was gone. Had it erased all of his memories? Did he even know his name? He’d known enough to be able to use his powers, but was that instinct and muscle memory?</p><p>The theorizing on the local news station just made Patton’s blood pressure spike more with every passing second. Not that turning off the radio and being left alone with his own thoughts was much better. So…</p><p>“Crop rotation!”</p><p>Patton was the only person who knew Bluebird’s secret identity (at least, as far as Logan had told him.) Well… Remy might have guessed, but he hadn’t been officially told, and Patton doubted he’d be any help anyway. So, Patton was the only person who could really look for him. Sure, he was certain the police were searching (as well as some doubtlessly more dangerous people), but Patton was the only one who knew Logan.</p><p>
  <em>You don’t know this Logan.</em>
</p><p>His Logan would have gone back to his apartment or maybe Patton’s if he were injured.</p><p>Patton gripped the steering wheel tighter. Okay. Maybe this Logan didn’t know where his apartment was. Maybe he didn’t know who Patton was. But he was still Logan, and Logan was rational and, more importantly, predictable. Patton would bet that in a circumstance where he knew nothing about what was going on, he would default to general survival tactics and what had he ranted and ranted to Patton about when they’d watched that one survival movie? Follow the water. Water is where you find food and shelter and almost certainly civilization if you follow it downstream. Sure, that was for when someone was lost in a forest or something, not already in a city, but Patton hoped he’d fallen into that strategy despite that, at least until he thought up something else better.</p><p>That’s why Patton had been driving up and down the river for the past few hours looking for anything suspicious and listening to someone blather on about corn. He pulled up underneath a bridge. It was a little bit away from the hustle and bustle of the city, but near enough to get to a more populated area quicklym and it had some good shelter around because there were trees. Patton bit his lip. If he thought like Logan, this would be a good place to stop. He decided to get out of the car and go out on foot for a bit.</p><p>Before exiting the car, he checked to make sure the mask was still in place. It felt strange on his face; he never really wore one. He clicked the locking mechanism which made the lights flash once but didn’t beep. He turned and froze when he met eyes under the bridge. The stranger didn’t speak but watched Patton intently from what looked like a makeshift house under the corner of the bridge. Patton edged out from beneath the bridge and headed toward the riverbanks. His shoes sunk into the mud a bit. It was starting to get dark which made it hard for him to search for things that looked out of place, especially when he was unfamiliar with the area. He was just running on blind Logan behavior instinct at this point. It was also starting to get cold. Patton hoped Logan had chosen to wear the winter super suit or he’d found a coat or something.</p><p>He wandered, looking into dark places and listening for any sounds beyond the river crashing into the banks. Around 15 minutes into his walk, his eyes caught on a large rock in front of a drainage pipe. <em>Perfect</em>, Logan’s voice said in his head. Patton crept over to check it out. No one was there, but it looked like someone had been recently by a smear of mud near the base of the rock that looked like someone’s foot had slipped there. Okay. He peered around him carefully, walking back toward the river. He had the sudden feeling of being watched. Up. He looked up at a small ledge along the bank and sighed in relief. “Thank god.”</p><p>Logan stumbled back a step when he realized Patton had seen him and turned tail to run again.</p><p>“Wait, L-” he cut himself off. He couldn’t risk it just in case someone was listening. There was a reason he had the mask and the car after all. Patton was the only one who knew his identity and Logan wanted to keep it that way. He thought quickly, head latching onto a story he’d been told one night curled up against a half-asleep Logan. “I’m Devora the Mood Goddess?” he tried.</p><p>Logan paused and turned to face him. “You know me,” he said peering at him from behind the mask still on his face.</p><p>Patton nodded, shoulders dropping in relief. “I do.” He offered a hand. “Come with me?”</p><p>He looked at the offered hand and then at Patton’s face. There was a moment of silence and then he nodded slowly and took a few steps down toward Patton. Patton grabbed hold of his arm when he got close enough, loosely so as not to startle him even though he wanted to latch on and never let go. Something loosed in Patton’s chest at the contact.</p><p>“Who are you?” Logan asked, accepting the touch, though he looked at Patton’s hand on his arm in confusion.</p><p>“In the car okay,” Patton requested. He nodded after a moment. “Are you okay?”</p><p>“I have body aches and from context clues, I assume memory loss,” he said, “but otherwise I feel well enough.”</p><p>“Good. Let’s get back to the car.”</p><p>They picked their way back toward the bridge through the muddy riverside. Patton groaned softly when there was an unmarked police car parked next to Logan’s car.</p><p>“What?” Logan asked at normal volume.</p><p>“Shh,” Patton scolded, but it was too late. A flashlight flared to light and turned to them the next second. “Hello Detective,” Patton said wryly. Patton had met Detective Silvia a couple of times, but of course she didn’t know that since Patton was wearing a mask. Logan knew her a bit more as Bluebird. She gave him a very suspicious look that grew almost hostile when she saw Logan was with him.</p><p>“Bluebird,” she said.</p><p>“So, I’ve come to understand,” Logan replied.</p><p>“I’m his friend. I’m here to help,” Patton said.</p><p>“Every villain in the city is looking for him, excuse me for not believing your word.” Patton sighed.</p><p>“He knows the code word,” Logan said.</p><p>She considered him and then shook her head. “I’d still be more comfortable if you came down to the station.”</p><p>Logan tilted his head at her. “No,” he said firmly. Then the detective yelped as her feet left the ground.</p><p>“Bluebird no!” Patton hissed. “The detective is our friend.”</p><p>“She is not my friend,” Logan replied with a frown. “I don’t know her.”</p><p>Patton rubbed his temples. “Just get in the car and put her down gently when you do.”</p><p>He went without compliant and Patton rounded the car. His eyes fell on the man he’d seen earlier, backed up against the wall with wide eyes. “Thanks for being concerned for him buddy,” Patton said.</p><p>They both got in the car and Patton drove away. He saw the detective being placed back on her feet in the rearview mirror. “Well, I’m going to have to send her a fruit basket,” he mumbled under his breath.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Logan contemplated his new companion, Patton, he’d said once they were in the car. The man had removed his own mask when they’d switched cars in some underground location and had given Logan cloths to change into in the back seat of a much more normal SUV. The cloths fit perfectly, and he imagined they must be his. The large and soft sweater was one of the most comfortable things he could remember wearing.</p>
<p>Not that he could remember much of anything.</p>
<p>To distract himself from that concerning thought, he once again refocused on studying the man driving the car. He appeared to be in his late 20s or early 30s and the dark marks around his eyes indicated that he was likely exhausted. It was only a little past 6pm, so Logan had to wonder why. Of course, the man had to have been out searching for Logan for hours. He was surprised the man was able to find him at all in such a large city when Logan himself was hiding. It was likely good that he did however considering that Logan had no idea where to start with dealing with whatever had happened to him on his own.</p>
<p>He seemed vastly more comfortable driving the SUV than he had driving the other strange car. His hands moved to buttons without looking for them and he sat back against the seat instead of sitting up straight and attentive. Logan deduced this must be either his car or one he drove frequently. He also clearly knew the path from the underground garage to wherever their destination was well as he anticipated turns and stoplights despite the fact that it was getting quite dark.</p>
<p>He glanced over at Logan and noticed him watching. He gave a small smile. “Yes?” he asked. There was something different about the way Patton often spoke to him, but Logan could not put his finger on what. A type of familiarity perhaps that was strange coming from someone who was to Logan all but a stranger.</p>
<p>“That phrase was a code I made up when I was a child in case a time traveling future version of myself needed to gain my trust.”</p>
<p>Patton laughed lightly. “Yes, I know. You read <em>The Door into Summer</em> when you were eight and came up with a time travel protocol.”</p>
<p>“Why do you know it?” Logan asked. “Why do you know the context?”</p>
<p>“I’ve been briefed on all of the Logan Prime Directives even the silly ones though…” he contemplated, “I guess that one wasn’t as silly as we both thought it was, all things considered.” He shook his head. “I did not think I’d ever use that one when you told me that story.”</p>
<p>“No, but…” he said. “Why would I tell you about it? I never even talked about it with my parents and certainly not with my peers.”</p>
<p>“We…” Patton glanced at him. “We’re close. How, uh, how far back do your memories go? You clearly have some of them if you remember being eight.”</p>
<p>He hummed in thought. “Many things are rather fuzzy, though I don’t know if that is an effect of the device that erased my later memories or just an effect of those memories having aged. I have a good impression of most of my childhood. The latest memory I can access was from when I was 18. I don’t recall graduating high school. How old am I now?”</p>
<p>“28.”</p>
<p>“That is a concerning amount of my life to be missing,” he commented. It was more than 1/3<sup>rd</sup> of his life and likely an important 1/3<sup>rd</sup>. He would have graduated high school and college, moved away from home, and, if things have gone to plan, entered a doctoral program. He felt as though he should be hurrying home for dinner with his parents, but he likely hadn’t lived with them in many years. He does not even know if his parents still live in his childhood home; many people downsize when their children move out, and he highly doubts they anticipate grandchildren which might have prompted them to retain the home. His parents might not even be alive. They were both in good health, but much can happen in 10 years. His mother would be approaching her sixties, his father already well into them. The average life expectancy was in the 60s and he’d never really thought about that in the context of his parents, but he’d likely had to confront that fact sometime in the last 10 years even if they weren’t yet deceased and…</p>
<p>“Are you alright?” Patton asked.</p>
<p>“Of course, I am,” Logan said.</p>
<p>“Are you sure?” he asked, his tone softening.</p>
<p>“I am simply contemplating the possible information I am missing.”</p>
<p>“I can answer questions if you’d like to ask.”</p>
<p>Logan thought about it for a long moment. “Are my parents still alive?”</p>
<p>“Oh sweetie,” Patton said. “Yes, your parents are fine and in good health. In fact, after your mother retired, they’ve been going off on hiking trips together. They’re probably more fit than I am at the moment.”</p>
<p>Logan let a slow breath out. “That is good,” he said, his voice level.</p>
<p>Patton reached over a hand to touch his knee, startling Logan a bit at the ease at which he casually touched him. “It’s okay and I’m sure we’ll get your memories back soon.”</p>
<p>“That is rather optimistic,” he replied. The hand still on the steering wheel clenched just barely, but the one on his knee didn’t even twitch. He slowly took the hand touching him back.</p>
<p>“Nothing wrong with optimism.”</p>
<p>Logan didn’t respond and they soon pulled into a parking garage. Patton parked the car and then let him to a 3<sup>rd</sup> floor apartment. Logan was careful to memorize the path in case he needed to retrace his steps for some reason. Patton reached into his pocket for a key and unlocked the apartment door.</p>
<p>The second he walked into the front room, Logan knew this had to be his space. Perhaps it was the repressed memories or perhaps it was simply that everything about it was exactly how he would have organized it himself. The couch was positioned perfectly based on the position of the door, window, and air vents that he could see. There was a small television screen set up on a stand made for that purpose at a reasonable distance and angle from the couch and the recliner next to it. There were no blankets or pillows in sight, likely stored away in a closet, the two pairs of shoes by the door were plain and carefully straightened on the rug, and there were no extraneous papers anywhere, but there was one single notepad on the table between the couch and the recliner with a capped pen laying parallel to it. It was exactly right. Any doubt that somehow Patton was lying and did not truly know him fled completely.</p>
<p>Tension he hadn’t even been aware of leaked out of him like water swirled down a drain after a bath, but apparently that tension had been the only thing keeping Logan on his feet. The body aches and headache that had been looming behind the adrenaline and survival instincts swamped him for the first time since he’d first awoken. It suddenly felt as though he had not slept in the 10 years he did not remember. There was a tingling feeling between his ears and forehead. He turned to the other man calmly as he finished locking and bolting the door. “I am passing out,” he informed him, and then he did.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>There are some *cough* illusions to sexy times in this one. Also Patton is um… not doing okay.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Patton said words that he’d usually scold Logan for using when, after the warning, Logan’s eyes fluttered closed and he toppled forward. Patton caught him around the waist. He sighed. “I really wish I had your powers right about now,” he groaned while eyeing the distance to the couch.</p>
<p>Patton was not a weak man, but Logan was not a light one. He managed to maneuver him onto the couch, though his feet dragged the entire way. Patton situated him with a pillow behind his head and then went into the kitchen to grab the quite extensive first aid kit Logan kept there.</p>
<p>A quick check up told Patton that there was nothing physically wrong with Logan baring a few scrapes from the fight. Which meant Patton’s usefulness was quickly dwindling.</p>
<p>He resisted kissing the man even just on the forehead because that would be bad and wrong when he didn’t know who Patton was to him. Instead, he contented himself with gently stroking his hair back into place and covering him with a blanket from the closet in the front hallway.</p>
<p>After that was done, he went to the kitchen. He braced himself against Logan’s refrigerator door and took a few deep breaths. He guessed it was an almost breakdown in Logan’s kitchen kind of day. When he was eventually able to wrestle control over himself, he calmly opened the refrigerator. There were leftovers from two nights before when Patton had tried his best to teach Logan how to cook chicken enchiladas. Logan had resisted the venture by attempting to distract him by any means necessary (mostly kissing and wandering hands). It had half worked, but they’d still ended up with something edible even if the kitchen had been a complete mess.</p>
<p>He could have just warmed them up, but he needed something to do that he could pretend was useful. He found some frozen cooked chicken and started thawing it in the microwave while he chopped up some vegetables from the refrigerator. He stir-fired the vegetables with some soy sauce and garlic and added the chicken to the pan at the end. With no idea how long it would take for Logan to wake, he dished out a portion for himself and placed the rest in the fridge.</p>
<p>Eating did nothing to fill the growing hole of numbness inside him, but at least he wasn’t hungry.</p>
<p>If this was his own apartment, he would have just left his bowl on the table and the pan in the sink, but it wasn’t his apartment, so he washed and dried them both and put them back where they belonged.</p>
<p>Then there was nothing else to do.</p>
<p>…</p>
<p>He went back to the living room. Logan seemed to be sleeping easy and showed no signs of waking up anytime soon. Patton sat down on the chair next to the couch.</p>
<p>He must have fallen asleep because the next thing he knew, Patton’s eyes were closed, and he could feel a presence hanging over him. “What?” he asked without opening his eyes.</p>
<p>“We are in a sexual relationship,” Logan’s voice informed him.</p>
<p>Patton blinked open his eyes to look at him. He was leaning a bit too far into Patton’s space than would normally be polite, boxing him in against the back of the chair. “How…?”</p>
<p>“You have a key to my apartment, are comfortable enough in my kitchen to not only cook but to put everything back into place perfectly, and I have a hickey on my inner thigh.”</p>
<p>Patton’s face went red immediately. “Oh my god.”</p>
<p>“It is not a difficult deduction,” Logan continued. “I do have to compliment you. It is quite a large mark, assuming of course, that was the intention.”</p>
<p>Patton hid his face in his hands. “Oh my god.”</p>
<p>“It’s interesting. I have never had any romantic inclinations that I can remember. Is it just sexual?”</p>
<p>“What? No!” Patton sputtered.</p>
<p>He hummed, eyes scanning Patton like he was trying to figure out how he worked or perhaps more like he was trying to figure out what aspects of Patton would serve to intrigue a future version of himself enough to give him the time of day.</p>
<p>Patton swallowed. “Could you, um, give me a little space now, you think?”</p>
<p>“Why?” he asked with a frown. “I’d imagine you’d be used to such closeness considering we have had sex.”</p>
<p>“Yes, and at the moment, you are mentally a high school student.” Patton reached up and pushed at his forehead with two fingers. He stared at Patton for a few moments without moving and then slowly stood back up. Patton pushed himself into a less reclined position. “How’re you feeling?” he asked.</p>
<p>“My head still aches though not nearly as bad as it did before and, other than the small injuries I observed you have tended too, my body feels fine.”</p>
<p>“That’s good,” Patton said. “Let’s get you something to eat, and then I’ll check you over a bit more thoroughly to make sure there isn’t something I missed.”</p>
<p>Logan agreed and Patton dished him out a serving of the stir fry he’d made earlier and popped it into the microwave. Patton checked the clock: 4:30 am. He’d slept for a while. “Want coffee?” Patton asked. He nodded. Good. Patton was pretty sure he himself was going to need it. He started the coffee machine and Logan continued to watch him intently as though he’d never seen anyone make coffee before (not true as Logan had confessed to sneaking coffee behind his parent’s backs at the age of 12.)</p>
<p>“Could you tell me what you know about my current self?” Logan asked when Patton set the two mugs of coffee down.</p>
<p>“Sure, but do you want to be more specific? I know quite a bit about you.”</p>
<p>“You said I am 28 and I can afford an apartment. Do I have a job?”</p>
<p>“Sort of,” Patton replied. “You’re in your last year of your math PhD program and they pay you to teach a couple of low-level classes.”</p>
<p>Logan nodded. It likely wasn’t a surprise to him as even at 18 he’d been planning to attend graduate school in either math or physics.</p>
<p>“What am I teaching?”</p>
<p>“Calculus at the moment. Two discussion sections a week. You’ve taught up to discussion sections for first year graduate level classes, but you went for an easier assignment in your last semester to work on your dissertation.”</p>
<p>“Yes, yes, that all seems to plan,” he mumbled more to himself than to Patton while tapping his formulating-a-question pattern on the tabletop with his fingers.</p>
<p>“I seem to have a superhero persona. You are at least aware of said persona. Do you know how or why that alias came into existence?”</p>
<p>“Bluebird,” Patton provided. Logan’s nose twitched, and Patton laughed a bit. “No. You didn’t pick it, but it grew on you. You created the persona when you were 22 and just starting your graduate program. You were taking a physics course and noticed some strange behavior from your least favorite professor. It turned out he’d snapped under the pressure when one of his TAs missed a final exam the semester before and started to build a dooms day device. You were originally more of a vigilante actually, but when he almost killed a bunch of people, you quickly ended up a hero to the city. You just kinda… didn’t stop.”</p>
<p>Logan considered this for a moment. “That does make sense,” he admitted and then looked back at Patton. “Give me a brief overview of my foes,” he demanded and then tacked on, “please.”</p>
<p>Patton allowed himself to be grilled about Bluebird all through Logan’s breakfast from his enemies and allies to the public’s perception of him to details about the ‘special car.’</p>
<p>“You know a lot about me,” Logan said finally. “You answered all of my questions easily.”</p>
<p>“Any question you can come up with has likely already been deemed important enough information for you to share with me at some point.”</p>
<p>Logan scrutinized him with narrowed eyes. “How do I organize my files for Bluebird’s ventures.”</p>
<p>“Red files, hidden in your office, organized by different file types, and then by date.”</p>
<p>“What type of fabric is Bluebird’s costume?”</p>
<p>“A 60/40 bamboo/cotton blend because of ease of cleaning, breathability, and texture reasons.”</p>
<p>Logan paused and thought long and hard. “What’s Bluebird’s favorite color?”</p>
<p>Patton rolled his eyes fondly. “That’s just a question about you silly.” Logan continued to peer at him. “HEX number 3673b9.”</p>
<p>Logan looked surprised. His eyes scanned Patton up and down. “How many people know I’m a superhero?”</p>
<p>“Oh, uh, just me,” Patton said quietly. “At least that’s what you told me. Well, I think Remy may have guessed. He was in the surgery when you accidently said my name in mask, and he knows you and I pretty well now so…”</p>
<p>“The surgery?”</p>
<p>“Oh,” Patton said. “Right. I’m a doctor. I never remember to tell you that…” Logan raised an eyebrow. “That’s how I figured out who you were,” he explained. “I hadn’t told you I was a doctor and when you were going under anesthesia after being hurt helping the city, you called me by name and asked why I was a doctor. It wasn’t a hard guess from there.”</p>
<p>Logan nodded, his eyes sparking with understanding like they did when he finally figured out a concept he’d been struggling with for days. “A doctor,” he commented idly. “A useful companion to have.” Patton felt himself flinch, but Logan didn’t seem to notice having looked away and down at his coffee. Dismissing Patton as simply useful.</p>
<p>Well at least he was honest.</p>
<p>Patton bit back his emotions carefully. Actually, perhaps this was a good thing: the memory loss. Well, not a good thing, but maybe an opportunity. Maybe without Logan having years of knowledge about Patton and preconceived ideas about how he had to interact with him, Patton could figure out what on Earth was wrong with him.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>After Logan finished eating, Patton showed him his office. First, he was given his personal and work files which were familiar in organizational structure even if they had years’ worth of new information in them and his work files had a new subfolder for teaching instead of being purely for schoolwork. Yet, the thing that most interested Logan was the new file designation which Patton retrieved for him by finding a key in a hidden desk drawer compartment and using it to open a secret compartment in the wall. The files there were red and completely new to Logan. Thankfully, they still had quite a bit of structure that he was able to pick up quickly and there were easy to read tables of contents with understandable subsection titles.</p>
<p>He flipped curiously through the first few. They reflected the story Patton had told him earlier in content as well as form. The beginning files were either blue for work or plain white since his foray into superherodom had started from an academic source.</p>
<p>Though he had not known Logan at the time by his own admission, Patton’s knowledge of his early days of being a superhero were perfectly accurate based on the files. That combined with his knowledge about where the files were in the first place, stroked Logan’s curiosity regarding the man even more. Logan was not a trusting person, at least he had not been at 18, and he imagined not much had changed in the last 10 years. So, he had to wonder what it was about Patton that had made him willing to share so much about his life and clearly heavily protected aspects of his life at that. He did not imagine he would share his exploits as a hero with just anyone.</p>
<p>And, if it were just his exploits as a hero, perhaps he would have even understood that. It was good to have an ally, especially one with useful skills such as a doctor. Yet, Patton’s knowledge went deeper than even that to things more personal, ones not in these files or any of his others. He knew <em>things </em>about Logan: his favorite color, why he prefers some fabrics over others, and stories that had never left his lips in his current memories.</p>
<p>Why? He had to wonder. What made this person so different than everyone else?</p>
<p>Certainly, he could see the appeal of him as a romantic partner in the theoretical sense.</p>
<p>He was a doctor which was useful considering Logan’s superhero status likely led to physical injuries sometimes. In addition, that was a well-paying, respectable job, though it did have an unpredictable work schedule. Achievement in that field spoke of enough intellect to be on par with Logan even if they were in different areas.</p>
<p>He was also clearly adequately skilled in other things. He had managed to find Logan and get him back to his apartment and seemed to have enough emotional control to do what was necessary in the situation.</p>
<p>This was someone he imagined his parents would have likely expected for him as a romantic partner (if they expected anything at all). Though, Logan did have to worry that if they were both not particularly emotionally expressive then there may not be a good balance in the relationship.</p>
<p>Logan watched as he flipped through one of his personal files to get a picture from his college graduation to show him with practiced ease. He was comfortable around Logan’s organizational system, he noted. That was something no one had ever bothered to be before. Most people either tolerated or scorned the way he kept his files, but Patton knew his way around it almost as well as Logan himself, better in fact when it came to the new red files, fingers always flipping to the correct pages in seconds when Logan asked questions.</p>
<p>It was nice to have someone care enough to learn it.</p>
<p>It felt as though something shifted marginally inside his chest at the thought of someone being patient enough to learn how Logan organized his life. To do so was to basically learn how Logan’s mind worked. He… hadn’t known that was something he might want.</p>
<p>Oh.</p>
<p>That, he suddenly knew with clarity, that was why. Or at least part of why. It had to be.</p>
<p>“So,” Patton broached suddenly, likely catching him staring and wonder why, “Why don’t you tell me about yourself?”</p>
<p>Logan blinked at him. “You already know me. Better than I do myself at the moment.”</p>
<p>“Sure, but I’ve only known versions of you that I’ve known.”</p>
<p>“Yes. That is typically how reality works.”</p>
<p>“Well not today,” he pointed out and… fair point. “Plus, maybe you’ll start to remember more if you start talking about yourself. Like when you’re trying to remember the title of a song so you sing the lyrics you know until you get to the point where they use the title in the song.”</p>
<p>Logan considered that. “That sounds like a rational strategy to try. What should I talk about?”</p>
<p>“Well, I know a lot about the events that happened in your life, but not really what you thought about them at the time. What are things you like and dislike in your life right now. You know,” he paused, “what are things you find annoying? Stuff like that.”</p>
<p>“I like coffee,” Logan said after a moment of consideration, “and school. Libraries. I like order and schedules and it makes me uncomfortable when things don’t go to plan. I don’t like impromptu things or eating outside. I don’t really like when people are overly emotional or when they cry mostly because I never know how to respond. I don’t like my English teacher because she once had a mental breakdown crying about a dream she had for 30 minutes when a student asked her if she’d graded our papers. Also, she was homophobic. I like math and science and my parents. Though, I dislike when they insist, I try to go out and “have fun.” I especially disliked when they set me up with a date for the homecoming. When I said I didn’t want to go especially with a girl they set me up with a boy for the next dance which was… nice as they attempted to listen to me, but they entirely missed the point. I dislike messes. I like jam. I want to major in math and physics and get my PhD in at least one… that seemed to work out. My calculus teacher was my favorite even though everyone else seemed to resent her, but we also mostly all passed the advanced placement test, so I think it was worth it. Also, she was kind.”</p>
<p>“You had a homophobic English teacher?” Patton asked.</p>
<p>“Ah, yes, did I never mention?” Logan asked. “She made her views known to a boy in the year below me and got fired a month ago.”</p>
<p>“You never told me about that.”</p>
<p>“Perhaps I decided she was no longer worth dwelling on. The man who took her place seems adequate, though I am not in his class. I also like my current English teacher. She says she got her teaching degree later in life and before that used to be a cultural anthropologist. She tells us stories about different places she’s been.”</p>
<p>Patton smiled. “She sounds interesting,” he said.</p>
<p>“Yes, and it is quite an interesting course. It is an extra one beyond what I must take to graduate. We write a research paper over the course of the entire semester.” Logan paused for a long moment. “This does not seem to be doing anything.”</p>
<p>Patton nodded. “Okay,” he said. “That’s fine. We’ll try something else. Maybe we should have lunch first though.”</p>
<p>Logan was starting to feel a bit hungry. “That is a good idea.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Erm. Logan says a few not so nice things about people who struggle academically which are very wrong. I think from context it is clear that the author doesn’t agree with it. As a teacher I do not endorse his statement and in the missing 10 years he’s learned the lesson for himself… he’s just a very dumb smart high school kid. That being said, I thought I might warn you all especially with the fact that people might be in the middle of finals and a little emotionally vulnerable to that one.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Patton spent most of the morning getting Logan familiar with his red files while also asking him subtle questions about his real opinions on things. The mention of the crying thing did sting a bit even though Patton already knew it made Logan uncomfortable. Patton knew that from the beginning, but he’d still let Logan force himself to try to help when Patton was upset.</p>
<p>God, Patton was a bad person.</p>
<p>After he’d helped Logan get a good feel of the newer files, they started brainstorming about how best to work on recovering his memories over lunch.</p>
<p>Patton had thought they were on the same page, that being they were going to read through the pages in his files hoping he’d remember something in them. However, now he was doing that finger tapping thing on the table while he chewed slowly on his sandwich.</p>
<p>“What?” Patton finally asked.</p>
<p>Logan had clearly been waiting to share because there was no pause before his response. “Have you heard of Blight?” Logan asked, casually, as though that were not a name that made most of the population shudder when they heard it.</p>
<p>“This is nothing like that,” Patton said firmly before he continued with that line of thought.</p>
<p>“Why couldn’t it be?” he asked with a curious head tilt.</p>
<p>“Because… because it’s not,” Patton said.</p>
<p>“Do you have any evidence that it isn’t? Just because it was a device instead of a superpower does not mean it is not the same methodology.”</p>
<p>“It’s just not,” Patton said, “It can’t be.”</p>
<p>“Why?” Logan asked again.</p>
<p>“Because none of them recovered,” Patton tried not to snap.</p>
<p>Logan hummed. “Ah. That seems like an emotionally charged conclusion.”</p>
<p>“Can we please just not talk about it?” Patton implored, turning back to his lunch even though he wasn’t hungry anymore. There were a few moments of silence.</p>
<p>“Did you know,” Logan started, and Patton sighed, “that Blight was on record as having telekinesis before she revealed herself as a Mind Warper? People say she must have implanted false memories in her victims, but if she really was then it would be evidence of-”</p>
<p>“The Monofacultas Theory,” Patton finished for him.</p>
<p>Logan gave him a startled look. “You know it?”</p>
<p>“I’ve known you for over three years Logan and while I agree that the theory is interesting and feasible, there are no known cases of someone having a set of powers that span more than one of the Tri-divisions.”</p>
<p>“If Blight had telekinesis there is. She would have had a physical power as well as a mental one. Witnesses said…”</p>
<p>“She tore the minds of an entire city apart at the seams and restructured them to her desire. Excuse me if I don’t trust the validity of those mind’s statements especially when they have been disproved by video evidence.”</p>
<p>“Just because she didn’t use telekinesis for that one situation caught on video doesn’t mean she couldn’t.”</p>
<p>“Fine,” Patton said. “Say you’re right. Why does it matter?”</p>
<p>“Well I have telekinesis.”</p>
<p>“So, you want to… move your memories back into place?”</p>
<p>“Basically, yes.”</p>
<p>“With your telekinesis?”</p>
<p>“Well, brains are ultimately physical objects.”</p>
<p>“And you are going to not simply give yourself a stroke because…?” Logan shrugged. “Absolutely not Logan.”</p>
<p>“It would be interesting,” Logan said, eyes alight. “I could prove that powers are not truly divided into physical, metal, or energy powers but are originally one singular power that develops due to circumstance during early childhood.”</p>
<p>“If your brain doesn’t literally explode because you don’t know what you’re doing.”</p>
<p>“All science has risk.”</p>
<p>“<em>No, </em>Logan.”</p>
<p>He gave him the look that Patton was not allowed to call a pout.</p>
<p>“Can we at least try some less extreme methods of memory recovery before the theoretical methods with no hard evidence? Like continuing to read your files to try to jog your memory naturally as we had discussed.”</p>
<p>“Fine,” he agreed, looking downtrodden. Patton really hoped he got his memory back before he got too restless and tried something like that.</p>
<p>“If you’re finished eating, we should get back to reading,” Patton said. Patton was certainly finished with his lunch.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The afternoon went well without any major disasters or talk about dangerous methods to get memories back. Logan had not remembered anything, but he’d been calm and patiently started sorting through his files in chronological order. Then, when Patton left him alone for a moment to go to the bathroom, he somehow managed to find his daily planner from where Patton had hidden under a blanket in the front hall closet.</p>
<p>“It’s fine,” Patton insisted from the couch, watching him pace back and forth and wringing his hands. “I called your advisor and told him you wouldn’t be able to meet with him because you were sick.”</p>
<p>Logan frowned at him. “You shouldn’t’ have done that. I could have gone. I don’t want to appear irresponsible by skipping meetings.”</p>
<p>“He wanted to talk about your research. You would have had no idea what he was talking about,” Patton reasoned.</p>
<p>“I would have managed.”</p>
<p>“Logan,” Patton said patiently. “Your research area is partial differential equations. Do you even know what those are?”</p>
<p>Patton could tell by the look on his face that he had no idea. Yet he still stuck his nose up in the air. “I know what a differential is, and I know what an equation is. I am sure I can figure out how to do parts of them.”</p>
<p>“You haven’t even taken multivariate calculus.”</p>
<p>“It can’t be that hard.”</p>
<p>“It is,” Patton groaned, “It is hard.”</p>
<p>“Perhaps for you,” he said hotly.</p>
<p>“No,” Patton ground out. “For you. The 28-year-old you spends hours a week trying to understand these things and he has a bachelor’s degree and almost 6 years of graduate education under his belt. <em>You</em> are in high school.” Logan just gave him a withering glare and turned his attention back to the planner.</p>
<p>“I’m supposed to teach two courses tomorrow,” he said.</p>
<p>“Oh, absolutely not,” Patton said.</p>
<p>“I have a responsibility rather or not I have my memories.”</p>
<p>“Logan, listen to me. You have not graduated high school. You cannot teach a calculus class.”</p>
<p>Logan bristled. “I took calculus last year and got an A.”</p>
<p>Patton had to take a steadying breath. “That is not the same as teaching it.”</p>
<p>“It can’t be that hard. I will simply explain the information to them.”</p>
<p>“And when one of them asks you how to add two fractions?”</p>
<p>Logan’s eyebrows crinkled. “That is a basic skill. I am sure anyone in a college calculus course can do that easily.”</p>
<p>“You have clearly never taught a day in your life.”</p>
<p>Logan bristled. “Any adult who cannot add fractions should immediately be kicked out of university and returned to kindergarten where they belong.”</p>
<p>Patton looked at him for a moment hoping perhaps he would figure out on his own why what he just said was completely out of line. He just kept his jaw stubbornly firm. Patton took a breath. “And that is why you cannot go and teach these students.”</p>
<p>Logan scoffed. “I am not sure why my future self would put up with such things.”</p>
<p>“Because you almost failed your real analysis course,” Patton answered in a heartbeat. “Your first semester of teaching, you were also taking a first-year graduate real analysis course and you couldn’t understand a word of measure theory. It was the first time in your life that you had to work for a C. One day you looked at your students and came to the realization that the look on their faces when you tried to explain the product rule to them was likely the same expression your professor saw on yours when he tried to explain the existence of non-measurable sets. We all have our strengths and weaknesses and if we let someone else draw the line for stupid, there is every chance we’d end up on the wrong side of it. So,” Patton said crossing his arms, “I am not going to let you go ruin your own reputation with your students as a teacher who is not an asshole because you’ve not had to toe your own line yet.”</p>
<p>Logan met his eyes, clearly wanting to argue, but Patton just kept his face strict and his arms crossed. Logan’s face cleared suspiciously quickly, and he backed down. “Fine,” he agreed. “I will stay here.”</p>
<p>“Good,” Patton replied eyeing him. “Now put down the planner and let’s go back to work.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>In which Logan was being a petulant little shit and so I slapped him in the face.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Logan’s future-self had made this ridiculously easy. He and Patton had fallen asleep on the floor of the office and woken up at about 6am. Logan had complained of boredom over breakfast and asked if they could take a break from the files and go to the library to get him a book to read whenever they were not trying to jog his memory. Patton had, predictably, told him that he wasn’t comfortable taking Logan out especially to the library since he frequented the location and people who know him might try to talk to him. Instead, he suggested Logan stay at the apartment and he would go alone to get a book for him himself. The man was surprisingly easy to manipulate for someone his future-self deemed a worthy romantic partner.</p>
<p>Said future-self had written his weekly schedule out in the front of his planner along with the buildings and classroom numbers each event took place in. So, he knew where he needed to be and when. He also had written the sections he was supposed to cover in the calculus textbook that day in the daily part of the planner. Logan could not find said textbook in his apartment, so he imagined it was in his on-campus office. Luckily, his future-self had the foresight to write his office number on the inside front cover of the planner in case it was lost and needed to be returned.</p>
<p>Now he just had to find these places. Getting to the campus was easy. When he exited the apartment building, he could see large buildings that were likely dorms only a few blocks away and, upon walking in that direction, easily found himself on a college campus. Then, it was simply the task of finding a map of the campus to locate the buildings he needed and going through the needlessly complicated process of figuring out his office building’s strange numbering system. Honestly why were rooms 7-9 and 13-15 in a separate hallway than all of the other numbers? It took him under half an hour all together to find the little room in the basement with a door who’s lock perfectly fit one of the keys on his keychain.</p>
<p>Perfect. Now, he just had to find the textbook in his desk, glance through the sections the planner had indicated, and make it to the classroom in less than 25 minutes.</p>
<p>He was honestly quite pleased with his own cleverness when he opened the door to the office.</p>
<p>
  <b>…</b>
</p>
<p>Patton was there.</p>
<p>He was sitting on one of the three desks in the room, arms folded over his chest. They stared at each other for a long moment.</p>
<p>“Hey Logan,” a woman seated at a different desk said looking between the two of them. “Everything okay?”</p>
<p>“Oh, everything’s fine Lia,” Patton said cheerfully, but there was a bite to his smile. “Logan is just being stubborn even though he’s in no state to teach today.”</p>
<p>“I’m perfectly fine,” Logan said, teeth clenched.</p>
<p>“Is this another Logan gets pneumonia incident?” Lia asked.</p>
<p>“Yep,” Patton replied without hesitation.</p>
<p>Logan frowned at him. “I am fine.”</p>
<p>“You are not,” Patton hissed.</p>
<p>“I have no physical ailments,” he insisted. Lia and Patton exchanged a look Logan did not understand, but which still made him bristle.</p>
<p>“Look Logan,” she said. “I owe you a couple for last semester; I can teach your classes for you today and next week too if need be. Like, we really don’t want a repeat of fourth year, do we?”</p>
<p>He had no idea what she was talking about. “That won’t ha…”</p>
<p>“Thank you, Lia!” Patton interrupted. “I’m going to go and take him home. We’ll have to get together once Logan’s all sorted out.” He hopped off the desk and grabbed Logan’s arm in a firm grip before yanking him out of the room. He was clearly irate, but Logan was too; he ground his teeth together.</p>
<p>“How did you even get here before me?” Logan grumbled.</p>
<p>“Because <em>I </em>know where your office is,” he spat back. “Unlike <em>you</em> who knows nothing about anything.”</p>
<p>Logan gave an irritated huff.</p>
<p>“Don’t,” Patton warned. “Listen to me. You cannot teach this class. I would do a better job at teaching that class than you right now and I don’t even have a bachelor’s degree in mathematics. Lia is a great teacher with as much experience as you’re supposed to have. She will handle it. You need to focus on trying to get better. Not on ruining your own life for whenever things get back to normal.”</p>
<p>This felt infuriatingly like a scolding. “I don’t appreciate being coddled,” Logan said coldly.</p>
<p>Patton took a breath. “I will endeavor to stop doing so as soon as you’re mentally in your 20s again.”</p>
<p>“We don’t even know if I even can get my memories back.”</p>
<p>“Maybe you will or maybe you won’t, but I am not letting you risk what you spent the last 10 years building because you have a pathological need to not take a day off.”</p>
<p>“Maybe I don’t want what I built,” he said stubbornly. Patton went stiff and Logan realized his error. He honestly hadn’t meant it in that way, not even in anger, but he didn’t know how to explain that when he saw Patton’s face smooth out.</p>
<p>“The parking lot is this way,” Patton told him, turning from him. Logan opened his mouth, but nothing came out.</p>
<p>They didn’t speak again until they were inside Patton’s car. “Here,” Patton said, shoving a book at him.</p>
<p>“What’s this?” he asked, snapping out of the mix of panic and anger still pounding in his ears.</p>
<p>“You said you wanted a book,” he replied and clearly nothing had snapped him out of his own anger yet. “You like that one and you said you always wanted to forget it and read it again, so I guess you get your wish.”</p>
<p>Logan stared at it as Patton started the car. He’d known Logan was lying when he’d asked for the book, but he’d still gone to the library and gotten him one anyway. What type of person would do that? What kind of person would still go through the effort to get Logan a book he liked even though his anger was clearly boiling under his skin?</p>
<p>No one was like that. At least, no one Logan had ever met was like that. Not even his parents, no matter how kind they were, would ever do something like that, for fear that it would be like rewarding bad behavior. This didn’t feel like it was a reward for bad behavior though. In fact, Logan felt bad even though he still thought he was in the right. It was an odd sensation.</p>
<p>He looked down at the library book. It was a symbol of something Logan couldn’t quite put his finger on. A lesson he had a feeling he’d probably learned already.</p>
<p>Affection coexisting with ire.</p>
<p>His parents had always been good people and loved him, but he’d spent most of his life living up to expectations. Teachers liked him because he was smart and rarely misbehaved. His peers tolerated him because he was able to help them with their schoolwork. His parents loved him for loves sake, but he was pretty sure they liked him because he obeyed their rules and he was good at things.</p>
<p>So, who was this man who got him a book he liked and gave it to him even when they stood opposed to each other? Even when Logan had lied to him and tried to manipulate him? Even when anger hung in the air between them in this car? Who was this man? Why did his kindness and affection not require Logan’s compliance?</p>
<p>He had the sudden though that while he didn’t know if he’d ever remember anything else about this life he’d found himself in, he could probably remember how to love this man.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I feel as though I should make a statement in Logan’s defense before you read this. There is a thing called unreliable narration and… our narrator is spiraling.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I have to go to work today,” Patton said Friday morning. “I am trusting you enough to not attempt to go to school like yesterday if for no other reason then so you don’t embarrass yourself.”</p>
<p>Logan nodded and Patton didn’t think he’d gotten his point totally across yesterday, but he thought Logan would probably not do anything today since on Fridays he only had to attend two classes and not teach or meet one-on-one with anyone.</p>
<p>“Good,” Patton said, biting his lip. Logan was distracted with one of his personal files and wasn’t looking at him. He’d been quiet yesterday after Patton had dragged him back from the college. He’d stopped asking Patton questions about himself or really talking to Patton at all, instead choosing to stew in his ire in silence. He read the book Patton got him and was civil when he needed something from Patton or when Patton asked something out of him, but his discontent with Patton’s presence was written all over his face. ‘Maybe I don’t want what I built’ echoed in the silence between them. It really sucked to know that Logan could so easily learn to hate him. “Bye then. I’ll see you later.” He shut the door to the apartment behind him.</p>
<p>He drove to the hospital in a daze of emotional numbness and sat in his car in the parking lot, staring at the tall building for almost 15 minutes with a tight feeling in his stomach before finally forcing himself into the building.</p>
<p>He had been hoping that having something to keep his mind busy with would help him feel better, but it just seemed to make things worse. It made the gaping hole in his chest widen and widen until it threatened to consume all of him. When he went to check on a patient’s wound, he felt like he could throw up despite the fact that he was long past being grossed out by medical things. It just kept getting worse and worse as Patton worked mechanically through the morning. Talk to patients, smile at coworkers, take vitals. Don’t rest. Don’t feel. Don’t break. Break and someone <em>dies.</em></p>
<p>“Patton,” a voice called as the lunch hour crept closer. Patton turned to see Remy rushing down the hallway towards him. “What are you doing here?” he asked.</p>
<p>“I have a shift,” Patton replied blankly. He tried to turn away from him because a friendly face was the most dangerous thing right now, but Remy grabbed his arm. “What do you want Remy?” Patton asked, refusing to look at him. There was a pause before he was tugged on and yanked into a hall closet.</p>
<p>Patton rounded on him once the door closed behind them, a bit of <em>it </em>leaking, just not in any way that would actually help. Instead, it came out in a way that would likely just make it worse when the guilt hit later. “What?” he snapped harshly.</p>
<p>Remy didn’t respond for a long moment, just leaning against the opposite wall of the closet with a frown on his face. Patton bristled under the scrutiny.</p>
<p>“I heard Bluebird got beamed by a memory gun.”</p>
<p>“Yes, I’m sure everyone knows that by now,” Patton replied scathingly.</p>
<p>Remy again didn’t react to the harshness in his tone. He just nodded. “Bet that’s hard for people who know him personally,” he said.</p>
<p>“What do you want?” Patton said and this time it came out more wobbly than harsh.</p>
<p>Remy sighed. “Patton go home.”</p>
<p>Patton shook his head and could feel pressure building up behind his eyes.</p>
<p>“Patton this is not the place for you today. I’ll tell Bev you’re sick. Just leave.”</p>
<p>“I…” Patton stuttered. “I can’t. I…” he started to shake, bursting at the seams. “I can’t,” he gasped, and he didn’t think he was talking about how he couldn’t leave work anymore. Remy leaned forward to tug him into a hug and Patton shattered like a window in a hurricane.</p>
<p>He could hear Remy saying things to him, but he couldn’t make out anything of the words except the soft sympathetic tone.</p>
<p>“A little girl fell out of the window,” he blurted out, unable to keep it in anymore, “and she was so tiny and so hurt and I had to cut into her with a knife so I could try to put her bones back together right and if I did anything wrong she might not ever be able to move right again. She could’ve died on the operating table and it would have been my fault. I shouldn’t have been the one to do it. Why did they pick me to do it? I’m not any good at this. I shouldn’t be here. I’ve just gotten lucky and one day someone isn’t going to wake up that should have and they’re all going to know how much of a fuck up I am. I can’t do anything right. I pretend and pretend to be good at things and nice and perfect but it’s all just an act and eventually everyone’s going to see it and they’ll all hate me. No one loves me and no one should love me and everyone who thinks they love me will eventually find out the truth and leave me because I can never be good enough no matter how hard I try.”</p>
<p>“Woah, hey, that’s not true Patton,” Remy said looking alarm. He was trying to wipe the tears off his face with his sleeve, but more just replaced them the next moment. “That’s so very not true. You’re not a screw up. You’re a great doctor and you’re not faking anything. So many people love you for you including me.”</p>
<p>Patton just shook his head. “You don’t know me,” he cried. “You don’t know me at all. The only person who I’ve ever even let really known me is Logan and I love him so much, but he doesn’t love me back, because I’m not good enough. And now he hates me.”</p>
<p>“No, no, Pat,” Remy said. “I know you’ve probably had a rough couple of days, but that man absolutely adores you. He could never hate you no matter what. He’s a dork who’s afraid of his feelings sometimes and he gets all pissy with strangers, but I know he doesn’t have it in him to hate you. No version of him ever could.”</p>
<p>Patton just laughed. “No. He doesn’t love me. Not really.”</p>
<p>“He does, babe. I promise he does.”</p>
<p>“I proposed to him,” Patton said. He managed to steady his voice, but tears were still streaming down his face. “He said no.”</p>
<p>Remy blinked and his mouth gaped open for a moment. “When…?”</p>
<p>Patton sniffled. “Two months ago.” It had been a soul draining, humiliating experience.</p>
<p>
  <em>“How do you feel about marriage?” Patton had asked one day in bed after staying in Logan’s apartment for the third time that week. He had been thinking about it for a while and that day he’d blinked open his eyes to see Logan staring at him with the softest expression he’d ever seen on the man’s face and then Patton had been slowly and thoroughly kissed the rest of the way awake. It hadn’t even led to sex that morning, but Patton had thought he wanted to wake up like that every day forever.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Marriage?” Logan had asked in response with a lilt to his tone that had made Patton swallow.</em>
</p>
<p><em>“Yeah,” he’d replied, “uh, specifically </em>you <em>marrying </em>me.<em>”</em></p>
<p>
  <em>“Are you saying you want to marry me?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“I… yes,” he’d admitted, but felt the need to backtrack, “but only if you want to.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>There had been a long pause and Patton had felt his heart shatter in it. “Give me some time?” he’d asked, but Patton had known that meant no. They had been dating for three years and he knew Logan had likely already made his decision about Patton long ago. He didn’t need more time. He was quick at making decision and he rarely went back on them. Patton had known him saying that meant Logan didn’t think Patton was good enough. That he hadn’t loved him enough to want to wake up next to him every morning. Patton had felt tears prickling at his eyes which wasn’t fair to him, so he’d turned away.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Of course, sweetie,” he’d said as steadily as possible and that had been the end of the conversation.</em>
</p>
<p>“So yeah,” Patton continued in the present. “There’s something wrong with me and I… I don’t know what. If I did, I’d change it, but I can’t figure it out. Maybe it’s just all of me. Maybe he’s too smart and can see through all of the acts and knows how horrible I really am inside.”</p>
<p>“Oh sweetheart,” Remy said and leaned forward to kiss him on the forehead. “You are wonderful. I promise. You’re the sweetest person I’ve ever met. Want me to slap Logan for you? That might fix the problem.”</p>
<p>Patton chuckled darkly. “Which problem?” Remy grabbed his face and made him look him in the eyes.</p>
<p>“You need to go home,” he said firmly. “You need to take a bath and eat some ice cream and watch a sad movie so you can pretend you’re crying about that. Okay?”</p>
<p>Patton didn’t respond, just averted his eyes.</p>
<p>“Come on Pat,” Remy cajoled, “nurses orders.”</p>
<p>Patton smiled just a bit. “I’ll take the day off,” he conceded.</p>
<p>Remy frowned probably because he could tell that Patton was not going to follow the rest of his instructions because Patton was too rotted on the inside to listen to anyone’s advice.</p>
<p>He let Remy deal with telling people he’d be gone for the day and headed back to Logan’s apartment.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Logan had not lied to Patton this morning. He was not going to go to the university today, but… he didn’t think he was going to find any answers in this apartment. And he did want answers now. He had always wanted to get his memories back of course, but something a little more urgent had been niggling in the back of his mind since yesterday to the point of a headache.</p>
<p>He’d spent the first hour after Patton left searching around the apartment. The two of them had fallen asleep either on the office floor or in the living room the last few nights while going through Logan’s files in the hopes that those would return his memories. They hadn’t; Logan was beginning to think they wouldn’t. There was something missing from the files that Logan could not determine. The files they were reading were extensive, but heartless: noncontextualized receipts, detached notes, and aloof reports. Logan was all for facts most of the time, but his notes gave little insight into meaning. Perhaps if he got his memories back, he should reevaluate his filing system’s configuration. He knew by now he wasn’t going to find anything within those pages.</p>
<p>So, instead of continuing to read through old receipts, he decided to investigate a room he hadn’t been in yet: the bedroom. The blinds were thick and had been closed tight keeping the room dark enough that it could be night. He’d left them closed and flipped on the light. Like most of the apartment, there weren’t many decorations. There was just a large bed, carefully made that took up most of the large room and a nightstand with only a reading lamp on it. The only thing that seemed out of place was the suit he found in the closet covered in a white plastic bag. When he unwrapped the suit, he found it was not something Logan would ever think to wear. He much preferred plain black suits over the honestly rather gaudy golden one he found inside the plastic cover. He was unsure why he’d apparently purchased such a thing especially since he seemed to have a perfectly functional black one in the closet too.</p>
<p>Then he’d laid in the bed that he knew he must have slept in every night for years judging by the way the right side molded to his body. The sheets had smelled weird somehow, though not as though they’d been spoiled, and he’d found himself rolling toward the other side, his hand finding a pillow in the center of the bed. He’d felt something like a tearing in his chest and found himself curling around the pillow so he could hug it to his chest. For the first time since he’d woken in this time, he’d been absolutely certain that something of his memories must still be in his head because this… this was something like a word on the tip of his tongue he couldn’t quite capture.</p>
<p>Part of him had just wanted to go to sleep in this strange, but not strange bed, curled around that pillow, but the other part had forced him to his feet.</p>
<p>He’d gone back to the main room and found his wallet. He dug out the receipts there before spreading them out on the kitchen counter in chronological order.</p>
<p>He was going to retrace his steps from the week before the incident.</p>
<p>Most of the receipts were places on or around the college campus. He decided to avoid the ones on campus, staying true to his word, but planned to work his way out using the university as the epicenter.</p>
<p>The first place he went was a coffee shop which according to the address on the receipts was only a few blocks from where his office building was. It was called ‘The Hideout’ and was the source of multiple receipts. He was easily able to find it on foot.</p>
<p>The second he walked into the shop, he was hit by a wave of déjà vu so strong that he felt he might get a nose bleed. It was as though he’d walked the path to the cash register thousands of times in a dream.</p>
<p>“Hey Logan!” a cheery man said. “I haven’t seen you or Patton in days. I was getting worried.”</p>
<p>“I have been ill and am still recovering,” he replied. “Patton has been caring for me.”</p>
<p>“I’m sorry to hear that, but I’m glad you’re feeling well enough to be out and about. Do you just want your usual coffee or are you eating?”</p>
<p>“I’d like a turkey sandwich,” he said.</p>
<p>“One turkey sandwich, no tomatoes,” the man said, “and a coffee with two sugars, don’t tell Patton.”</p>
<p>Logan gave him a tight-lipped smile and handed him a twenty-dollar bill, adding another receipt from the establishment to the pile in his wallet.</p>
<p>He sat at a corner table and the sight of the calm coffee shop both made him want to relax and want to jump out of his skin. There were ghosts dancing in front of his eyes: little wisps of figures that weren’t there and conversations that weren’t happening. His head hurt.</p>
<p>He ate the sandwich and drank the coffee, the taste as familiar and unknown as the rest of this place. The man at the till waved to him when he left.</p>
<p>The next place was a small bookstore that he walked around for half an hour and the grocery store on the corner. Each prickled familiarly at the back of his skull but did not give him quite the pounding headache as the coffee shop had.</p>
<p>He felt like a ghost haunting his own life.</p>
<p>There were a few other places he found himself, a couple of fast food restaurants and a juice bar in a gym that didn’t seem to affect him at all.</p>
<p>Last, he ended up outside a tailor’s shop farther from the university than anything else. He had a feeling this had been the source of the new suit in his closet. He didn’t go inside, just stared at the mannequins in the window for a long time before he walked away.</p>
<p>He got back to his apartment a bit past noon. Perhaps he should not have been surprised after yesterday that there was a figure on the couch. Logan froze. Patton did not react for a moment to the sound of Logan entering the apartment and Logan wondered if he’d fallen asleep sitting up with his head in his hands.</p>
<p>“Did you go to class?” he asked after a few long moments, still not moving.</p>
<p>“No,” Logan answered.</p>
<p>After enough time that Logan started to shift uncomfortably, he removed his hands and gave a sharp nod. “I’m glad to see you aren’t dead.”</p>
<p>“Would you like to know where I went?” Logan would like to tell him, especially because now it felt like the missing memories, wherever they were in his head, were slamming into whatever figurative wall the memory gun had erected in his mind.</p>
<p>Yet, Patton said, “no. Not right now.” He got to his feet then. “What would you like for lunch?”</p>
<p>He was not hungry as he’d eaten recently, but he wasn’t going to say that. “Anything is fine.”</p>
<p>“I’ll make buffalo chicken tenders,” he said and once again Logan was stricken that the man with an expression on his face that on lesser men meant Logan was about to be cold-cocked would put forth the effort to make one of Logan’s favorite lunch time foods.</p>
<p>Logan wanted his memories back and not even for himself. He just wanted to remember how to wipe that expression off Patton’s face and wondered why on Earth future him hadn’t bother to write that down.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This one is very heavy. Patton is spiraling hard and expresses some very unhealthy deep seated views of himself and his role in relationships. So be warned and if you want to wait to read this, feel free. Basically all of the warning in the tags apply in this one except medical procedures.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Patton’s back ached from falling asleep on the floor next to the couch once again the night before. It had been horribly quiet in the apartment in the last 24 hours since Patton returned from the hospital to find Logan gone. He didn’t know what to do.</p>
<p>They’d defaulted back to looking through the files that they’d already pretty much read through at this point and Patton was starting to wonder if there was even any point. They’d looked through the red ones last night and the green ones this morning before rotating back to the blue ones which were now spread all over the coffee table.</p>
<p>Patton had snagged one of the fluffier blankets from the closet and curled up under it, but it didn’t make him feel any better. In fact, he might feel worse because he couldn’t keep insisting that Logan pet it like he normally would.</p>
<p>Logan didn’t even seem to care enough to voice his obvious unhappiness with Patton. His silence just made Patton feel worse and worse and made his thoughts spin and spin. Logan was tapping his fingers against the table thinking about something. Usually Patton would respond to that action with patient fondness, but today it just made him want to curl up into a ball wondering what he was thinking. Patton’s mind kept returning again and again to that place it had been in on and off the last two months except that place was getting darker and darker every time he came back around to it.</p>
<p>Ever since the rejected proposal, Patton had tried to figure out what it was about him Logan didn’t like. He’d tried all sorts of things. He’d tried not inviting himself over to his apartment as much, not being as pushy about Logan taking care of himself, offering sex less, offering sex more, not being as pushy about spending time with him, being more quiet, letting him decide what they did on dates, not talking as much about his job, not depending on him as much when he was stressed, not crying in front of him when he was overwhelmed. He’d tried. He’d tried so many things.</p>
<p>The problem was Logan. Or at least Logan before.</p>
<p>What Logan hated most in life was change and he’d clearly gotten used to how Patton naturally acted over the years. Thus, he kept getting distressed when Patton tried to change something.</p>
<p>When Patton avoided his apartment for over a week, he’d asked if <em>Patton </em>was mad at <em>him </em>and then since Patton had that Saturday off, he’d managed to cajole Patton into spending all day in Logan’s bed napping and cuddling.</p>
<p>The not pushing him to care for himself had only lasted a few hours. Patton knew it had to be annoying, but he couldn’t stop himself from reminding him to eat breakfast and Logan hadn’t seemed mad when he’d started back up. He’d even brushed a kiss across his cheek when Patton handed him a plate of bacon and breakfast potatoes.</p>
<p>He seemed to be able to tell when Patton wanted to have sex with a startling amount of pinpoint accuracy, like he had Patton down to a science. When Patton wanted it, but didn’t start something, he initiated it himself and he looked at him with abject confusion when Patton tried something when he didn’t want it.</p>
<p>He showed up to the hospital to take Patton to lunch in the cafeteria when he didn’t mention meeting up for lunch because he assumed the reason was that Patton was too busy that day. He pushed when Patton didn’t speak much, citing that he was worried something was wrong and he insisted on his input on dates before he’d move forward with any plans.</p>
<p>Patton had kept quiet about his job for three days before Logan had gone and talked to Remy behind his back to ask if something was wrong at work. Under pressure from both of them, he’d spewed out the buildup of stress all over the place. And it was so hard. It was so hard not to cry about it when Logan pressed soft kisses to his cheeks and temples and asked him if he was okay.</p>
<p>But now Logan wasn’t used to Patton and wasn’t set into patterns that he probably didn’t actually like, but just allowed because he wanted to be nice to Patton and was used to it. The problems with Patton were becoming apparent every time Logan side eyed him.</p>
<p>Patton had been hoping that maybe he could figure out from this version what parts of Patton he really did not like. Then Patton could hold more firm about getting rid of those things once Logan got his memories back. He’d definitely appreciate it after an adjustment period. That is if Logan even wanted him after this. He hoped he’d at least give Patton a chance to fix himself.</p>
<p>Patton was good at pretending. He knew how to cut pieces of himself off to get people to love him back. He’d had a lot of practiced. Make sure to do your homework at the dinner table at mom’s house so she knows you’re not being lazy. Cook when you’re at dad’s house so dinner is ready when he gets home from work, but make sure you’ve cleaned up by the time he gets home, so he doesn’t see you cooking. Don’t let grandma cook potatoes; she doesn’t like them and will blame you for them being on the dinner table. Never turn on the television at mom’s house; it rots the brain. Make sure the television is on the sports channel by the time dad gets home. Don’t touch grandma’s remote no matter how loud the volume is. Sit up straight for mom. Don’t cry in front of dad. Be quiet for grandma. Pretend dad doesn’t exist for mom. Call dad’s new girlfriend mom. Don’t try to correct grandma when she calls you by your dead grandfather’s name. Get good grades. Get into a good college. Get a job that pays well. Don’t complain. Don’t get in trouble. Don’t be gay.</p>
<p>Patton knew how to do it all. Logan had never asked it of him. Never, not once had he told Patton that he needed to fix himself or that he had to change for him; he deserved it more than any of them.</p>
<p>“We’ve talked a lot about me,” Logan said surprising Patton out of his churning thoughts especially since he had barely spoken all day. “but what about you?” he asked. “Tell me more about you. Tell me about our relationship. Why do you want to be with me or at least the me with my memories?”</p>
<p>“I…” Patton started. “There are a lot of reasons.”</p>
<p>“Then tell me one.”</p>
<p>Patton bit his lower lip. “You read my papers.”</p>
<p>“Your papers?”</p>
<p>“I’ve written a few research papers and you looked them up and read them and tried to understand them because you wanted to be able to talk to me about something I was interested in. That was the first time in my life that someone looked at me and it felt like they actually wanted to know me. And you kept doing things like that. You remember my coffee order and bring my favorite sandwich to the ER even when you know I’m in surgery and I can’t be there to see you so you just leave it with someone else to give it to me when I’m done. You eat the stupid cafeteria food at the hospital when I only have time for a 30-minute lunch just to spend time with me and after the first time we had sex, you got up early and cooked me an omelet because you didn’t know how to cook anything else. You try to find ways to help me feel better when I’m upset even though it doesn’t come naturally to you and you’re willing to throw popcorn in my mouth from across the room with your powers just because I ask even though you think it’s silly. You once took me on a picnic to a park 5 hours away because I mentioned how much I loved it when a group of us went there on a retreat during medical school even though you don’t like eating outside because of the bugs. And you didn’t even complain… well, I mean, you did complain, but only enough to make me laugh, not so I thought you really resented being there with me. When we go to parties and I say I want to go home, you pretend to get a migraine so we can leave early and sometimes we end up having sex in the car outside. And even though you complain about how annoying you think Remy is, you know he’s my friend so you still make a point to make an effort with him and hang out with him even when I’m not there. So…” he swallowed. “Yeah.”</p>
<p>“You really love me,” he stated, eyes intent on him and unreadable.</p>
<p>“Every part of me loves you Logan,” Patton said, gripping the soft blanket in his fingers. “You can have whatever pieces you want.”</p>
<p>“Whatever pieces?” he echoed.</p>
<p>Patton forgot for a moment that the man in front of him did not have context, that he didn’t and couldn’t understand what Patton was asking. “Look,” he said. “I know there is something wrong with me. I know there are parts of me that annoy you or make you angry, but if you just tell me what they are I’ll change them.”</p>
<p>“You think I don’t like all of you?” Logan asked.</p>
<p>“Clearly not!” Patton said, standing up suddenly and throwing the blanket off onto the ground. He paused and took a breath, forcing his tone to be calm and clinical, like he did when he got too emotional at work. “Look at this,” he gestured to the piles of files in front of him: blue, green, and red. “This is everything from your personal files to your work files to the files for your alter ego, but where am I? You have the receipt from the first fast food order you bought with your credit card, the invitation from your five-year high school reunion that you didn’t even go to, and your sixth-grade report card. But there is nothing in here about me. Not really. I am not important enough for you to keep. But I can be if you just tell me how. I can be whatever makes you happy. If you love me at all, I will rip myself apart until I’m what you need.”</p>
<p>Logan looked him directly in the eyes. “If I love you, I don’t want that.”</p>
<p>Patton blew up. “Then what do you want, Logan?!” He snapped his mouth closed and looked away, tears that had been building since Logan had lost his memory, since Patton’s marriage proposal had been rejected, since his mom had first called him stupid because he’d gotten a B on a math test in the 5<sup>th</sup> grade, springing to his eyes. “I’m sorry, I didn’t…” he swallowed and stood, a picture of calm. “It has been a stressful couple of days,” he said, flicking a tear off his cheek. “I think I need to go back to my place and rest for a while. I’ll come back tomorrow morning and we can… I don’t know, try aromatherapy or something.”</p>
<p>Before Logan could say anything more, Patton beat a hasty retreat.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter 13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Decided to edit the rest of Gaps tonight. Got impatient. Have all of it.</p>
<p>I like how this chapter turned out.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Logan didn’t even know what he’d done this time. Patton had been quiet, sad, and distant since yesterday and he’d had no idea what to do, but obviously not trying to talk to him was not working. So, he’d decided to say something and had gone for a conversation topic that had been on his mind. He’d noticed that the things that most seemed to make the itch in the back of his brain worse were things that connected to Patton in some way. He’d thought the best course of action was to ask him about their relationship, but Logan’s questioning had led to an explosion of emotions that Logan had no idea how to deal with. The man had spun himself in circles until he came to the conclusion that Logan didn’t like him.</p>
<p>It was false, Logan knew with certainty even without memories of picnics, coffee shops, and sex in cars. The evidence was right there in Patton’s own words and Logan was unsure what prevented him from seeing it. Patton’s face had gone all soft when he’d spoken of the reasons why he loved Logan, but the reasons he gave were also evidence that Logan must love him.</p>
<p>Beyond those facts, Logan knew because he could not imagine ever being able to know a man like Patton as well as he clearly was supposed to and not love him completely. He had known the man for four days and for three years and he could not imagine not wanting to keep him forever, but there in lied the issue, because Patton was right. He wasn’t <em>here. </em>Logan stared at the green folders laid out in front of him in abject confusion. Patton just simply was not here and that was… that was weird. Logan kept files on everything. Everything! There was no reason why Patton would not be here. He had to be here.</p>
<p>Three years ago. Patton had said they’d met more than three years ago, and he’d mentioned that Logan had accidently used his powers in front of him. Considering what he’d seen about the organization system of his red files, there should be an incident repot somewhere in them detailing the incident.</p>
<p>Everything was organized by date, so it was easy enough for him to find the correct time period to look through. He carefully removed the table of contents for between 1-5 months more than three years ago and laid them out on the floor in front of himself. He started reading through them more carefully than the scanning for content he’d been doing the last few days.</p>
<p>He quickly found what he was looking for: an incident report from 3 years and two months ago, but its entry in the table had been crossed out and there was a symbol next to where it had been. It was the symbol that meant a file had been moved, and it was written in blue ink, which meant work files. Yet… it was strange because it was the wrong shade of blue. Wait.</p>
<p>It was the wrong shade of blue.</p>
<p>Logan would never make such a mistake.</p>
<p>“There’s another file designation,” he said aloud to his empty apartment. It was the only explanation for the gaps in his files. He must have created not just one new file designation in the past 10 years, but two. A red one <em>and </em>a light blue one. Patton knew about the red one, but he clearly did not know about the light blue one which is why he hadn’t shown it to Logan. Considering that the man knew almost everything about Logan and what the hole in his records revolved around, the only logical conclusion was that the light blue files must be about Patton himself. He could think of no other reason why he wouldn’t show them to Patton.</p>
<p>The itching in his head returned full force, edging on becoming a headache. He needed to find those files.</p>
<p>He spent the next hour searching the entire apartment, but he simply could not find where he hid those files, yet the more he thought about it, the more certain he became that they had to exist somewhere.</p>
<p>He sat down on the couch with his personal files strewn around him to think. Where on Earth would Logan have hidden another group of files? He tapped his fingers on his thigh and then grabbed the pen that had been left on the coffee table along with a blank piece of paper. He’d write down places he’d looked and then brainstorm new ideas. He’d thought up the hiding place once after all; he could do it again. Yet, when he went to start writing, the pen made only the lightest of marks before it ran out of ink.</p>
<p>He stared at the empty pen. He should throw it away.</p>
<p>He didn’t.</p>
<p>Instead, he stared at the pen for a long moment. He stood and walked to his office like he was a wheel stuck in a grove in a dirt road. He sat down on his office chair with the pen still in his hand. His foot hit a small wire trashcan under the desk which had nothing but three pens in it. He blinked at the pen in his hand and then at the pens in the trashcan. He still did not throw away the pen. Instead, he tapped it on the desktop idly as he looked around. His gaze was draw inexpiably up. It was a high ceiling, he noted. He’d need a ladder to reach the roof. Or at least… he would if he didn’t have his powers. He raised an arm and tapped with his powers on the wall near the roof. Then he tapped a bit to the right of the first tap and then again, a bit to the right of that. He repeated this until something gave slightly under the pressure. A flap came up and a binder rushed into Logan’s hands.</p>
<p>Light blue.</p>
<p>Yes. This, he knew without knowing. This was what he had been looking for perhaps even before he’d started looking for it. He flipped it open to the first page. It was a red piece of paper, the missing incident report, and scanning through it, he saw that it had taken place in the coffee shop he’d visited the day before. It is where Patton and he had met. He touched the paper with a gentle finger and then turned the page and started to read.</p>
<p>He was less than halfway through the binder when he physically felt something click back into place and settle inside him. “Oh,” he said, his finger on a page he’d written one day about what Patton had cooked for dinner. It was such a mundane thing like seeing the mailbox at the end of your driveway after coming home from a long trip. He traced slowly through the memories as the last of them shifted back into their places from a day years ago in a coffee shop to the suit he’d picked up from the tailor the day before he’d lost his memory…</p>
<p>He froze.</p>
<p>Oh no, it was Saturday. He looked at his watch. Oh no, it was 4:47pm! He immediately flipped to the end of the binder and found the baggy he’d placed there, ripping it open to retrieve its contents. He paused for a moment and then stuffed the dried-up pen in the bag to replace it. Then, he put the binder back where it belonged and literally flew out of the office door.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Chapter 14</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Note: I'm posting this right after the last chapter. Read that first.</p>
<p>They’re so dumb… just… so… dumb.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When Patton arrived back at his apartment for the first time since Tuesday afternoon (though it felt like it had been much longer), he decided to finally take Remy’s advice. He grabbed a tub of ice cream, sat down on his couch, and just cried for about two hours before he finally fell asleep. He woke to the sound of frantic knocking on his door. Rubbing his eyes, he stumbled to the door and opened it.</p>
<p>“Put this on!” was the first thing the person on the other side of the door said, thrusting a hanger with a white bag covering its contents at Patton.</p>
<p>“Wha?” Patton asked as Logan shoved his way into the apartment.</p>
<p>“We’re going to be late,” Logan stressed. “We can’t be late, Patton!”</p>
<p>“Late for what? Logan what?” God Patton shouldn’t have left him alone. What was he thinking?</p>
<p>“I forgot about the reservations. How could I forget about the reservations, Patton?”</p>
<p>“Logan?” Patton said cautiously. “Are you okay?”</p>
<p>“I am perfectly well, but we need to be to the park by 6, and I have just remembered all of the ways this could go wrong!” As he spoke, he ripped the bag off his own black suit and hung the other hanger up on Patton’s coat closet door before starting to strip out of his trousers.</p>
<p>Patton paused, hopeful. He seemed… more confused than he had been since he’d lost his memories, but… “You remember something?” he asked softly.</p>
<p>“Oh, I remember everything,” he said waving his hand through the air absentmindedly, standing in the middle of Patton’s apartment in his underwear as he grabbed the dress pants and started to struggle into them.</p>
<p>“You remember?” he asked.</p>
<p>“Yes, yes, the coffee shop, the surgery, the dates, you staying over at my place 81.3% of the time because it’s closer to the hospital, the fact that you leave dried up pens all over my living room,” he blathered as he finished fastening the pants. Once he was done with that, he stepped toward Patton and grabbed his face in his hands. “The fact that you will never go along with my plans without some form of argument. Put the suit on Patton!”</p>
<p>Patton gapped at him for a moment before his mouth slammed shut, his hands clenched at his sides, and his eyes started to well with tears. “Maybe lead with that next time,” he spat.</p>
<p>Logan did that double blink thing he did when he was particularly startled by Patton. “Apologies love, you are correct of course,” and oh, how was Patton supposed to stay mad at that? Patton softened, and, when he titled his head up to look him in the eyes, Logan pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “I think we may have a lot to talk about,” Logan said softly, and oh. Oh right. Patton hadn’t really thought though the possible consequences of his outburst now that Logan remembered everything. “But right now, we have somewhere we really need to be. I’ve bought you a suit that will look very pretty on you. Will you please put it on for me, love?”</p>
<p>Patton nodded, brain a whirlwind of emotions, but he got another quick sweet kiss out of it that steadied him enough to do as he asked.</p>
<p>The next thing Patton knew, he was literally flying out of his apartment. Logan said it was the only way they’d make it to wherever they were going on time.</p>
<p>Not wanting to be seen, Logan had to land them a couple of blocks away from the busy park in one of the city’s closer suburbs. He kept looking at his watch as he towed Patton by the hand toward the center of the park</p>
<p>“Um, Logan,” Patton said, “it looks like we aren’t supposed to be here. There aren’t any people and it’s blocked off by rope.” He pointed to said rope with his free hand while trying to tug at the hand in Logan’s grip to make him stop.</p>
<p>He paused and turned to Patton. “Dear, please, in,” he glanced at his watch, “five minutes and 53 seconds, I will be happy to do anything you say, but will you just do as I ask for a little under six minutes?”</p>
<p>“I…fine.”</p>
<p>“Good,” Logan proceeded to pull him towards a blocked off area near the base of the fountain. He searched the ground for something and then pointed at a bit of glow-in-the-dark paint. “Stand there,” he said, and Patton did, shooting him a confused look. “Now face me.”</p>
<p>“Okay…”</p>
<p>Logan took a deep breath now that they were in position. “And with over 30 seconds to spare,” he breathed.</p>
<p>“I still have no idea what’s happening,” Patton pointed out.</p>
<p>“I know,” he replied. “I was supposed to have more than 30 seconds. I was going to walk you slowly through the park and buy you a flower from the vender down the street. I was going to distract you enough that you didn’t even notice the ropes blocking people from this spot, but life got in the way. I should have expected it with you being a doctor and me being me. We have busy lives, difficult lives that get in the way a lot of the time. And you said some things the last few days that worry me and we’re going to have to talk about it and where it came from, but I would like to talk about it. Actually, I insist you talk to someone about it even if it isn’t me. Because our lives are complicated and messy and neither of us are perfect in general or even for each other. But maybe that doesn’t matter because despite all of that, we still somehow made it here in time and I think that might mean something. Something really, really important.”</p>
<p>“Logan sweetie, whatever’s going on, it’s alright. You need to calm down.”</p>
<p>“This is traditionally not a calm sort of thing from what I understand. Anyway,” he said, looking at his watch. “It’s time.”</p>
<p>“What are-” At that moment, the fountain next to them started up, the little white lights that had already been lit on it shimmering like little stars in the moving water.</p>
<p>Logan went down on to his knees and pulled a ring out of his pocket.</p>
<p>“Oh my god.”</p>
<p>“Will you marry me?”</p>
<p>“I…” Patton said. “I thought you didn’t want to get married.”</p>
<p>“What gave you that impression?” he asked.</p>
<p>“You… I asked you to marry me and you didn’t say yes.”</p>
<p>“You did not ask me to marry you.”</p>
<p>Patton stared at him. “I said I wanted to marry you and you said to give you more time.”</p>
<p>He looked like a very confused puppy on his knees in front of Patton. “Yes, for the planning. We had discussed that you would want a dramatic proposal after you expressed a desire to be married.”</p>
<p>“Wha- When did that conversation happen?” Patton asked.</p>
<p>“Two years and 11 months ago in the park by the hospital when we saw a man perform a song to propose to a woman. I had said that those types of proposals made me uncomfortable and you asked me why as you believed they were romantic. I explained that the receiving party would likely feel pressured to say yes in front of a crowd and that such an act could be manipulative. You said we could compromise and that it would be alright if they’d already said they wanted to be married and the other person did it to make them feel loved and surprise them about the day and type of ring, but not the question. You said that would be your ideal proposal.”</p>
<p>“Logan that was our second date.”</p>
<p>“Yes.”</p>
<p>Patton sighed. “Oh honey, I love you. I think we really need to work on our communication skills, but I love you.”</p>
<p>“I would agree after the last few days,” Logan said. “I also love you very much.”</p>
<p>Patton looked down at him still on his knees… because he was proposing. Right. “Oh! And yes! Of course, yes!”</p>
<p>Logan smiled at him softly and Patton wanted to jump up and down, but he also wanted to cry a bit and maybe sorta wanted to throw up a little and not just from the entire tub of strawberry ice cream he’d eaten a couple of hours ago. But the thing he most wanted was what he could tell he was about to get. Logan put the ring on his finger (Patton made a note to actually look at the thing sometime later) and got to his feet before sweeping Patton up into a kiss.</p>
<p>Patton drew back from the kiss feeling lighter than he had in days though not nearly completely perfect. He looked around himself. “Oh, wow,” he gushed. “This is so pretty! You’re so pretty! I’m so pretty! I love this suit. Oh, can we take pictures somehow before we leave?”</p>
<p>Logan laughed at him softly. “I hired photographers of course,” he informed him, preening a little bit, “They doubtlessly got pictures of the proposal and the kiss. We can have them take more if you’d like.”</p>
<p>“Oh, those are going to be wonderful pictures with us in front of the fountain like this. This is the most perfect thing I could ever imagine. I love you so much.” He started to get a bit chocked up. Logan pulled him into a hug and gee, that was even better than the kiss had been, especially because they didn’t have to pull away to breathe for a hug. Logan never even tried to pull back even though Patton kept him wrapped up in his arms for far longer than most hugs ever went. He just pressed a kiss to the top of his head and rubbed his back until the ache in Patton’s chest eased enough for him to feel comfortable pulling back himself.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>And then Patton goes to therapy for 5 years and they both go to relationship counseling for 2 years as I have mentioned in Labels Shift. I do plan to eventually do at least a one-shot of Patton in therapy, but I wanted to end on a happier note.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Epilogue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Note: I'm posting this right after the two last chapters. Read those first.</p><p>It's epilogue time!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Virgil had been living with Patton and Logan for over a year and the papers that would change their status from foster parents to actual parents were already filed and being processed. In the past year, Virgil had gotten more comfortable in their house. He wasn’t worried about getting into trouble for little things like making small messes and being caught in the wrong place anymore. So, today, since it was the weekend and he had little to do, he’d decided to go investigate the house again.</p><p>This was not nearly the first time he’d crept around their house, though his reasons for doing so had shifted. It had gone from a need to find hiding places and emergency exists to being more of a function of curiosity and boredom. He wondered if he was just a naturally nosy person.</p><p>Over his time living here, he’d found many things in their house. There were closets that were comfy to sleep in… too comfy sometimes because he’d almost given Patton a heart attack when he couldn’t find him for hours once. He’d found holes in the walls for hiding small things and learned that Missy hid her toys in a small space under the back-porch staircase (to her utmost annoyance). He’d even found a back entrance to Logan’s underground superhero liar under the house which had resulted in Logan screaming in surprise because he’d all but forgotten he even had that entrance before Virgil came tumbling through it with spider webs in his hair. Logan had laughed about it afterwards and affectionately called him a ‘little termite.’</p><p>Today, he was looking for a couple of good loose floorboards. They were great places to hide things in. He hadn’t really felt a need to hide much food for a while now, so he didn’t know what he planned to use them for. Maybe places to hide Christmas presents?</p><p>Logan wasn’t in his office because it was Saturday which meant he was probably off being gross with Patton somewhere. So, Virgil decided to poke around in there first. He started carefully pacing back and forth across the floor, feeling for any give and listening for sounds. After a few minutes, he found what he was looking for in one of the boards usually covered by a rug (likely because it made noise when you stepped on it otherwise).</p><p>He pushed the rug out of his way and grabbed the old fork he’d snatched for this purpose to pull at the edges of the board. It popped up easier than he’d thought it would, but that wasn’t the only surprise. The bigger shock was that there was something already under it. It was a light blue binder: its sides chipped and bent a bit with age. He wondered how long it had been there and figured it had been put there by someone who owned the house before Patton and Logan.</p><p>Curious, he reached for it. Gee, it was heavy. It wasn’t a standard inch or two one he might grab for school; it was much bigger. It must be a 5-inch binder at least, he decided when he pulled the hefty thing out and looked at the spine, and it was stuffed to the brim. The thing might as well have been for weightlifting. After putting the board back in place, he opened the cover and flipped through a bit idly. The beginning of the book was filled with different colored paper. Some red, some green, and some just plain white and clearly having been torn out of a notebook. However, the paper used eventually became uniform and all a light shade of blue to match the binder’s cover.</p><p>He glanced through a few of the earlier pages. There was a pressed flower attached to a piece of green paper and a napkin with a doodled dog and a coffee stain on it pinned to a thicker piece of white paper with a scribbled date from a few decades ago next to it. He paused when he scanned a couple of pages of writing. Oh, this was some kind of love journal. Whoever had written this stuff was clearly totally gone for someone based on the couple of sentences he read. He turned to where the pages changed to the light blue color. The first page of this section was a table of contents. A weird ass love journal then.</p><p>
  <b>Table of Contents:</b>
</p><p>Likes/Dislikes</p><p>           Sight</p><p>                       Décor</p><p>                       Landscape</p><p>                       Me</p><p>           Smell</p><p>                       Toiletries</p><p>                                   For himself</p><p>                                   On me</p><p>                       Household</p><p>                                   Cleaning Supplies</p><p>                                   Candles</p><p>                                   Air fresheners</p><p>                                               Spring</p><p>                                               Summer</p><p>                                               Fall</p><p>                                               Winter</p><p>                                               Holidays</p><p>                       Gifts</p><p>           Touch</p><p>                       Textures</p><p>                       Human Contact</p><p>           Taste</p><p>                       Candy</p><p>                       Meals</p><p>                       Other</p><p>           Sound</p><p>                       Musical Tastes</p><p>                       Background</p><p>                       Environmental</p><p>Emotion Expression</p><p>                       When Upset</p><p>                                   Physical</p><p>                                   Verbal</p><p>                                   Gestures</p><p>                       When Not Upset</p><p>                                   Physical</p><p>                                   Verbal</p><p>                                   Gestures</p><p>                       At Any Time</p><p>                                   Physical</p><p>                                   Verbal</p><p>                                   Gestures</p><p>           Romance</p><p>           Sex</p><p>Sentimentality</p><p>           Lunch Notes</p><p>           Keepsakes</p><p>           Drawings</p><p>           Receipts/Pamphlets</p><p>           Other</p><p>Planning</p><p>           Date Inquiry</p><p>           Europe Trip</p><p>Engagement planning</p><p>Wedding planning</p><p>10 Year</p><p>20 Year</p><p>Musings</p><p>           Journaling</p><p>           Poetry</p><p>           Sketches</p><p>Okay, Virgil thought once he finished reading the first few pages that made up the table of contents. That was adorable. A bit weird, but adorable. What type of person…? He had to know. He flipped back to the beginning of the binder. The first page was one of the red ones (those colored pages seemed to be more concentrated toward the beginning of the first section than the other colors.) The title of the page was “Incident Report.” Weird. He scanned the page, skipping over the official looking fill in the blank part to get to the box labeled “Incident Description.” His eyes scanned over the words there.</p><p>“A man dropped coffee on me. On instinct, I stopped the liquid from hitting me and righted the coffee cup with my powers. He appeared disoriented. His actions afterwards indicated he did not notice the usage of my powers. Subject name: Patton Sanders.”</p><p>Virgil slammed the binder shut. “Oh fuck!”</p><p>“Language, young man,” Patton chided, wandering into the room. He raised an eyebrow at the huge binder in Virgil’s lap. “What’s that?”</p><p>“Nothing!”</p><p>He blinked and tilted his head to the side. “It doesn’t look like nothing kiddo.”</p><p>“Um… it’s, uh, it’s, um… nothing?”</p><p>He narrowed his eyes. “Should I be worried.”</p><p>“No! It’s not mine! I’m holding it for a friend!”</p><p>“…Now I am worried.”</p><p>“It’s nothing.”</p><p>“Virgil, what’s in the binder?”</p><p>“What binder?” he waved his hands to cover it in shadows so Patton couldn’t see it anymore.</p><p>“Virgil!”</p><p>“Uh. This is not the binder you are looking for,” he said with a hand motion.</p><p>“Logan!” Patton called.</p><p>“No! Don’t call Logan.”</p><p>Patton eyed him for a moment. “Logan, come here now!”</p><p> </p><p>Logan heard Patton’s call from the other room and dumped a disgruntled Missy off of his lap to quickly make his way to the source of the commotion. Patton was standing at the door to his office with his face pinched in worry and Virgil was kneeling on the floor with a mass of crawling shadows covering his arms. That was worrying.</p><p>“What’s going on?” he asked.</p><p>“He has something. He won’t let me see or explain, and I’m worried.”</p><p>Logan raised an eyebrow at the boy and crossed his arms. “Let Patton see whatever it is.” Virgil shook his head wildly, staring at Logan intently as though trying to bore a message into his skull through shear will power. “Is there a reason?” Virgil nodded. “Why?”</p><p>“Uh. I’m willing to give it to you. Just not… not to Patton.”</p><p>Logan shared a look with Patton. “Very well,” he conceded. He walked over to kneel in front of the boy and held out his hands. Virgil pushed the bundle of shadows in his arms into Logan’s and then vanished the shadows. Logan felt heat spread immediately up his neck all the way to his hairline.</p><p>“Sorry,” he mumbled.</p><p>“How much did you?” he asked.</p><p>“Just enough to figure out what it was.”</p><p>“What is it?” Patton asked behind him.</p><p>“Drugs,” Virgil blurted.</p><p>“Huh?”</p><p>“I appreciate your loyalty,” Logan told him. “How did you manage to keep a secret identity for over a year?”</p><p>Virgil glared at him in answer.</p><p>“It’s nothing to worry about,” he assured Patton. “Virgil was simply being an exasperating little termite again and managed to peel apart our flooring and dig up something that he wasn’t supposed to find.” He gave the boy a gentle hair ruffle to make sure he knew Logan wasn’t truly mad at him.</p><p>“What?” Patton asked, now more amused than anything since he’d been assured there was nothing wrong with their child.</p><p>Logan stood to face him, holding the binder. “This is mine,” Logan admitted, rubbing a thumb over the cover. “It had been hidden under the floorboards.” Patton just blinked at him.</p><p>“I’ll, uh, go,” Virgil said and dashed out of the room. Patton watched him go with a raised eyebrow which he then turned back onto Logan.</p><p>Logan tapped a pattern onto the binder cover. “You know of my organizational system for files, correct?”</p><p>“Green for personal, blue for work, red for superhero stuff, Patton if you put one more dry-cleaners receipt in a blue folder, I will divorce you. That organizational system?” Patton asked wryly.</p><p>Logan quirked a small smile, fingers continuing to trace over the binder. “Yes, that one,” he confirmed. “I assign different colors to the most important parts of my life. This,” Patton’s hands came up automatically to accept the binder when Logan offered it, “is yours.”</p><p>“Mine?” he asked.</p><p>Logan pulled his hands away from the binder and fisted them by his sides. “I…” he said. “I am not proud of every entry,” he warned. “I was still learning in the beginning, but I wasn’t going to throw any of it away.”</p><p>“You… you kept files about me?” he asked.</p><p>“Yes,” he admitted. “As you know, I am not the best at empathetic ventures, but I was quite invested in you. I wrote down observations that would help me plan how to make you the happiest as well as my own frankly rather embarrassing romantic musings. I also kept keep sakes such as small things you have given me and receipts from dates. I have a 78-page section dedicated to the sticky notes you’ve left me over the years.”</p><p>His eyes went a little watery as he looked down at the huge binder in his arms. “You made a file designation for me,” he stated. “You… you… when…?”</p><p>“The first thing in it is from the day we met,” he answered, “it’s a rather clinical observation that had originally been in my red files. I transferred it when I decided on a color for you. It’s your favorite and one day I saw a light blue binder in the bookstore and bought it. It wasn’t this binder. It was a much smaller one, only half an inch; I vastly underestimated my needs. The first thing I specifically made for these files was the plan I had for asking you on a date. I was quite proud of it at the time though it now seems rather silly. It was a whole 25 step plan to woo you. Of course, you ended up asking me on a date before I could completely implement the third step and ruined my entire plan, but the ideas about where to take you if you said yes were certainly beneficial to have written down then. Else, I fear I would have made even more the fool out of myself than I ultimately did.</p><p>“Oh my god. Logan sweetie,” he started bawling. “Did you just hand me your heart?”</p><p>“Of course not. You already had that.”</p><p>He sobbed harder. “You can’t just say things like that. I’m already crying.”</p><p>Logan leaned forward to press a kiss to his forehead. “I never expected you to see this,” he admitted, his face coloring again as he remembered some of the mortifying things between those pages. “But if you’d like to read it, you may.”</p><p>“Really?” he asked, eyes sparkling.</p><p>“Really,” Logan confirmed.</p><p>Patton shot him a huge smile. “Can I ask you something?”</p><p>“Sure,” he replied.</p><p>“How much of this is porn?” Logan’s face heated up and he was sure he was absolutely scarlet which was ridiculous considering he’d been married to the man for over two decades. Patton snorted. “Oh my god, sweetie. I was joking.”</p><p>He tried to snatch it back from him, but Patton adamantly refused to return it. “Most of it is a relic from my mid-20s. What did you expect?”</p><p>“Goodness, I hope Virgil didn’t see any of that,” Patton laughed. Logan groaned and Patton grabbed his hand. “I love you,” he said.</p><p>“And I love you.” He gestured at the monstrosity in the other man’s arms. “Clearly.”</p><p>Patton smiled at him. “I know.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Feel free to visit my writing tumblr blog <a href="https://snowdice.tumblr.com/">@snowdice</a>. Asks are open!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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